


My Kind of Mercy

by Sirana



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M, OC Story, Rated E for later chapters, Slow Burn, usual Fallout violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-06-05 20:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 64,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6722962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirana/pseuds/Sirana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boone wishes nothing more than to have life be done with him. He can feel his borrowed time running short, and he thinks it's only a matter of time before death comes knocking. However, Red Belladue isn't letting go of him anytime soon. As the courier's new companion, the two go on a journey to find a man in a checkered suit and to assassinate Caesar while they're at it. Boone may think life's out to get him, but Red believes life will show it's own kind of mercy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sorry, but I Broke your Gun

The long trek from New Vegas to Boulder City hadn’t been kind to Boone. Hell, even his stay in The Strip hadn’t been good. It was his first time back without Carla, and the visit had been…bitter sweet at best. On top of that, the courier confronted Benny, only to have him take advantage of her gullible side, and get away. Red was a genuine girl. Sure, she may have kept secrets of her own, but when it came to her own feelings, she’d never lie. So, she just assumed everyone else would do the same. Benny had been a good wake-up call for her; a way of showing that most in New Vegas weren’t willing to play fair.

After that whole ordeal, Red was furious and decided to cool off with a bit of wandering. She suggested seeing if Camp Forlorn Hope needed any help, and Boone had no objection to helping the NCR. The two arrived at Boulder City very late at night, and because of Red’s good reputation there, they were given free rooms for a night. Now he was groggily stumbling out of bed, wishing he could just sleep forever. Trudging down to the saloon, he found Red sitting at one of tables. Her one clear blue eye carefully studied a sniper rifle that she was turning over in her hands. The other eye was covered with black eye patch, although Boone couldn’t say for sure if there was even an eye behind it at all.

Wait…that was his sniper rifle! A sense of anger and a need to scold washed over to him as he approached the girl. He stood menacingly over where she sat, and it took her a second to notice. Her chin-length maroon hair swished slightly as she looked up.

“Good morning.” She smiled up at him.

“What are you doing with my rifle?” He cut straight to the chase.

“Oh,” looked back down at the weapon. “You left it here after dinner last night.”

“I what?” he snapped, aghast that he would even be so careless.

Then again, he had been pretty fatigued that night.

“Mhm,” she nodded, “I was going to take it back to you, but you were already in bed, so I didn’t want to disturb. Instead, I just took it back with me so nobody else would take it.”

“Well thank you, but I’d like it back now.”

“I was going to…” she tapped the weapon awkwardly, “But then I noticed the receiver was broken.”

“What are you talking about?” he grunted.

As far as he knew, his sniper rifle had been working just fine, and he knew the thing inside and out.

“Here, see?” she held the gun up for him to see and gently poking at the receiver, “It’s loose.”

Boone didn’t even bend down to get a closer look.

“It’s supposed to do that.”

“I know guns, Boone, and I know that receivers aren’t supposed to do that.” She shook her head.

It was true: Red was fairly skilled when it came to anything that spit lead. He had seen her scrounge together weapon repair kits, and snub gunsmiths for her own handiwork. Still, he had only known her for a month, and he didn’t like the idea of an associate tinkering with his sniper rifle.

“Then you obviously don’t know sniper rifles.” He shot back.

“Sure I do,” she sassed and went to reach for her pack, “Here, let me show you.”

“Red, give it back.” He growled and tried to grab the rifle.

However, she pulled back, “Just hang on—”

“Red.” He growled again, this time taking a hold of the gun.

Now his glowering eyes locked with her one, sincere eye. She obviously had good intentions, but he was not in the mood to accept any goodwill.

“Let go.” He warned.

Before New Vegas, Red would sighed and reluctantly gave in. But since Benny made her realize how much of a doormat she really was, she had learned to stand her ground.

“…No,” she replied softly, “Boone, I swear, this’ll break down on—”

“Stop, it won’t just—” he gave a tug.

“If you just give me an hour to—” she tugged back.

“Red, I swear, if you don’t—” he fought back, this time pulling harder.

SNAP. The sound of metal breaking and clattering to the tile floor cut the two off from their argument. They cast their eyes down to the floor to see the receiver broken off. Nervously, the courier gulped and looked up at Boone, whose bulging eyes looked about ready to break through his shades. Then he let out an ominous growling, much like a dog would in a fight, but scarier. He only needed to take one step forward to send Red scrambling from her seat.

“W-w-wait, Boone!” she stuttered as she backed away hurriedly, clutching his rifle to her chest defensively.

The sniper advanced on her threateningly until he had Red’s back up against the wall, glaring aggressively into her pale blue eye. Red would have called it sexual assault if she wasn’t so scared of Boone just punching her face in.

“I’ve had that sniper rifle since day one in the First Recon.” He snarled.

“I…I’m sorry.” She whimpered.

“It’s gonna cost a fuckton to replace a part like that.” He hissed as he snatched his gun back.

“N-no, you don’t have to do that,” she shook her head quickly, “I can fix it!”

“Yeah, because that went well the first time.”

Now he was just insulting her ingenuity, which she wouldn’t stand for.

“Boone,” she suddenly gathered some backbone and met his gaze, “You said it yourself, it’ll be pricey to hire a gunsmith and you know I’m good with repairs. Look, I’m…I’m sorry I broke your rifle, but I can for sure replace the receiver. I-I can even make some improvements to it!”

Since Benny, Red had also started practicing the art of speech craft. She figured if Benny could trample her with his smooth talking, so could she. Although she was no silver tongue yet, she was still convincing, and that expressive blue eye definitely gave her a boost. Begrudgingly the sniper thrust the weapon back into her arms.

“Have it done before tomorrow.” He ordered.

Courier Six nodded furiously and hurried out the door. Just as Boone was about to start his usual seething, he heard a muffled laughing from the bar. The bartender and a customer were trying to keep from guffawing, but one death gaze from the sniper, and the bartender quickly shut up. The other man however, just kept chuckling. Boone would have written it off and ignored him, but then he noticed something familiar in the man. It was like he had seen him somewhere before.

“Damn, Boone, I didn’t know you could be any more of a hard ass than you already were.” He laughed.

“Rich,” Boone acknowledged the old friend, “Been a while.”

He remembered Rich from the First Recon. The two of them had been placed in many of the same missions, and although Rich wasn’t there for Bitter Springs, he could still say he knew Boone when he was a little less stiff.

“I’ll say,” Rich chuckled, “What have you been up to since the First Recon? You know, besides having your weapons manhandled by Miss Sticky Fingers over there.”

Boone rolled his eyes and took a seat at the stool next to Rich. He was still fuming about the whole incident, but maybe a quick chat with an old comrade in arms would cool him off. After all, he still had a hell of a lot more miles to travel with Red, so staying pissed at her the whole time wouldn’t help anything.

“I worked as a sniper for Novac with Manny Vargas,” he explained, “Then Red came along. She helped me with a favor, and now I owe her. I’m helping her track down Benny.”

Rich whistled at the name. He knew tracking, let alone facing someone like that, would be difficult.

“Why’s she hunting him of all people?” he asked.

“She’s a courier. Was delivering a package to the Strip when he and some Great Khans jumped her. According to her, they took the package, shot her point blank in the head, and dumped her a shallow grave outside Goodsprings. I guess that town’s got one hell of doctor, because he fixed her up and now she’s back to finish her delivery.”

“Yikes,” Rich cringed at the tale, “That’s one hell of a delivery job.”

Boone just snorted, “You ask me, it’s all over exaggerated rumor. There’s no way someone can survive a headshot.”

Rich thought it over a moment before giving a weak nod. He and Boone both carried out their fair share of headshots, and none of their victims ever lived through it.

“Maybe he just shot her in the eye,” Rich shrugged, “Could be why she’s missing her left.”

“Could be,” Boone grunted, then went on to complain, “She’s a decent shot, but it’s clear that her lack of an eye gets in way sometimes. I’ve seen her miss targets just a few feet away from her.”

“Sounds like she leans on you quite a bit then,” Rich remarked.

“Yeah, I’ve had to take a few shots for her. Shots that should have been easy…but…” his voice trailed off for a moment, “There have been times when she’s a damn good shot. I’m talking the accuracy of a veteran First Recon, and she manages to pull it off without a scope of any kind.”

“Huh?” his friend looked lost.

“I don’t get it myself…” Boone mumbled suspiciously, “But one time I was dealing with a Legion sniper across a valley. The fight was dragging on like any fight between two snipers would, but then Red got tired of waiting. She came out from her cover, stepped in front of me, and fired her pistol. I saw the Legion soldier drop dead through my scope.”

Rich gave his old friend a dubious look, “So you’re willing to believe shit like that, but you don’t believe she could have survived a bullet to the head?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Boone sighed, “But it’s happened on other occasions. Taking out a swarm of Cazadors with only one bullet each, shooting a Robobrain in just the right spot to make it malfunction…I’d accuse her of faking the eye patch if she didn’t pull stunts like that so rarely. After each one, she’s gotten really bad migraines. Like the one with the Legion sniper; she had to lie down for a while before she was well enough to keep moving.”

Rich mulled the notion over a second before shrugging, “Lucky hits?”

“…Maybe…” Boon muttered.

A silence fell between the two that went on for quite a while. Boone was waiting on his rifle to be fixed while Rich was enjoying his first day of leave, so neither had anywhere else to be. So the two just sat there, slowly sipping their drinks.

“Well,” Rich finally spoke up, “We all hide our own secrets. Speaking of which, how’s Carla?”

By the lack of response on Boone’s part, Rich could only assume the worse.

“Ah…I’m sorry, Boone. What happened?”

“The Legion got her,” he answered bluntly, “She’s dead.”

“The Legion got her?” Rich repeated, “But she’s dead?”

“Your ears not working or something?”

“It’s just that…well wouldn’t they have taken her as a slave?” Rich wondered out loud, “Wouldn’t there be a way of getting her back?”

“No, she’s gone, Rich.” Boone insisted.

“How do you know?” Rich pried further.

“I just do.” Boone snapped suddenly.

The silence fell upon the two again with Rich clearly becoming fed up with Boone’s angsty disposition. Sure, the guy had always been a bit of a silent grouch, but it was like he amplified his bitterness by ten!

“You sure she didn’t run out on you?” Rich huffed, “She’d never shut up about Vegas after all.”

The sniper put his glass on the counter with a slam, making the bartender nearly drop the shot glass he was cleaning. With that, he stormed out of the saloon, pissed at how his day had turned out. He had woken up sore, had his favorite sniper rifle broken by a ditz, and took guff from an old friend. Although now that he thought about it, Rich was never a very good friend to begin with. He was always sticking his nose in other people’s business.

Dusk had fallen outside. The entire conversation he had with Rich had been very drawn out and lazy. Boone hated lazy days. Nothing to do…nothing to keep his mind occupied…plenty of chances for it to wander. Taking a seat on some rubble of a pre-war building, he stared out on the cracked and broken road. He would have surveyed the landscape with his scope, but…he didn’t have one. It felt weird without his gun by his side. It was like the comrade that had been through it all with him. It was there at Bitter Springs, there when Carla died. That was more than most of his cohorts could say.

“Boone?” a voice broke his stream of thoughts.

Turning his head, he saw Red standing there, backlit by the setting sun. Her blood red hair almost meshed perfectly with the warm-colored sky. However, the armored vault jumpsuit clashed. She held his sniper rifle in her hands, hugged closely to her chest like it might break again.

“I, uh, fixed it.” She mumbled timidly, probably still wary of the fact that he’d still be mad.

“Let me see.” Boone gestured for her to come closer.

The courier stepped forward and carefully handed the weapon back to Boone. He gently tapped on the receiver to find it replaced with scrap metal. Scrap, but durable none the less, and it showed no signs of breaking off. As he aimed the gun into the distance and stared through the scope, Red hopped up on the jagged rubble with him.

“I made some other adjustments too,” she bragged, “I added some more resistance to the trigger and the magazine catch so things feel a little more snappy and responsive. I also cleaned off the cheek pad and added some cushiness to it. Oh, and…”

She reached over to touch the scope, but one look from Boone told her that he didn’t want her so much as touching his gun ever again. Red withdrew her hand.

“If you just turn that little knob on the scope…” she pointed to a new add-on Boone had never seen before.

He turned it and looked through the scope to see everything had gone green and black.

“It goes all night vision-y!” She squealed happily, “See, I told I’m good with repairs. And all that extra stuff I added…take it as an apology for overstepping my boundaries.”

Her companion was silent for a few seconds as he felt every part of the gun, making sure everything was in working order. It was, and it felt as new as the day he got it.

“Where’d you learn to do this?” he asked gruffly.

“My dad owned a weapon repair shop back home. His whole thing was supplying weapon repairs at a cheap price, since they’re so pricey everywhere else,” she explained, “He taught me about half of what I know. The rest is self-taught. I always wanted to take over the shop after him.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Red opened her mouth to speak, then stopped herself, like his question caught her off guard. Then she just stared off into the dusky sky with a wistful expression.

“Life happens,” she answered bluntly, “And the childhood dreams we make have to be set aside for the real world.”

Boone didn’t respond to that. Red had seemed such an upbeat person up until then, and it never struck him that she might have a rough past. Sometimes it even bugged him how optimistic she was. Didn’t she know the shit he had gone through? Although, he didn’t even know the shit she went through. Both of them had kept their shit-filled backstories to themselves. So maybe there was a darker edge to Red than he knew.

“But I love being a courier. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” She broke the grim atmosphere with a dreamy sigh.  
“Then why’d you quit?”

“Quit? No, I didn’t quit,” she shook her head, “I’m actually still on a job. Just a really, really long job that requires wiping out Caesar’s Legion and taking a platinum poker chip back from a bastard in a checkered coat.”

“That’s a job I can help with. Long as it means killing some Legionaries along the way.” He replied.

“Then we’ll kill every one we see.” She agreed proudly.

More silence followed as Red watched the falling sun and Boone slung his rifle over his back.

“Oh, by the way, this is a little awkward, but…” the courier spoke up, “Well they only gave us those rooms for one night. Said ‘one night for one act of heroism’, and because there’s no more Great Khans around to kill…”

Red’s voice trailed off while her companion let out an exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. If she hadn’t gone and broken his gun, they would already be at Forlorn Hope.

“Yeeeaaah,” Red cringed, but tried to make light of the situation, “But hey, travelling by night isn’t so bad. I used to do it sometimes while making deliveries.”

Travelling with Red Belladue was going to be the death of him, but hey, that wouldn’t be something he’d mind very much.

\--------  


Notes: So yeah, this first chapter is basically summing up everything Boone knows about Red so far in their adventure. Rich is just a character I threw in for the sake of exposition, you won't see him again.  
Thanks so much for reading my first fic on here, and stay tuned for more!

Shout out to my awesome beta, EpicOfMe!


	2. Innocents on a Cross

The two reached a sort of NCR checkpoint by morning. Red remarked that she didn’t remember there being one outside Nelson, unless that meant something bad had happened to the place. Assuming the worst, the courier approached the ranger who looked to be in charge of the operation.

“What’s going on here? Why are you guys outside Nelson?” she asked.

“Some Legion snakes are occupying the place,” the ranger answered, “So for now, this area is locked down by the NCR until we can dislodge them.”

“But,” Red grimaced, “We need to get to Camp Forlorn Hope.”

“Then you’ll have to take the long way around,” the ranger shrugged, “Nelson isn’t safe for travelers.”

The courier looked over her shoulder to give her partner a concerned look. It was then that the NCR ranger noticed her companion and the bright, red beret on his head.

“Although…with your friend there, you may be of use to us.”

“Really?” the girl perked up, “Great, I’ll take any chance I can get to knock some Legion heads together.”

Rather than answer back to Red, the ranger seemed to be talking directly to Boone. It was like he was looking right through her.

“They captured a bunch of gear and now have the town. Couple of troopers too. Got ‘em crucified down near the center of town.” The ranger explained the situation.

Boone noticed the courier stiffen up at the mention of crucifixion. She took on a more serious aura as if she wasn’t already serious about killing Legionaries.

“What do you need us to do?” she asked sternly.

“Since none of the weepy troopers here are likely to jump at the opportunity any time soon, you could help me take out the Legion’s trooper hostages.”

“Got—wait what?” Red gasped, “Why kill the hostages?”

Boone looked away, the scene playing out being all too familiar to him. The fact that Red didn’t even know the start of what “mercy killing” was just proved how naïve she still was.

“The troopers won’t go down into the camp with their comrades at risk. Dirty game the Legion likes to roll out whenever they get a chance. Problem is, Ranger Milo doesn’t want to play. If we take out the hostages, they’ve got nothing for leverage.”

The ranger looked right at the First Recon sniper the whole time he talked, giving the mission more to him than he was Red. When he finished, she stepped between them to get the ranger’s attention.

“Why not try and rescue them?” Red tried.

“Back at ‘Ranger School’, they taught us not to run headlong into a battle when you’re outnumbered ten to one,” he scoffed, “You want to go down there and try to haul those crippled boys off those poles? You’re dumber than you look.”

Oddly enough, the courier backed down at this. She had been doing so well at standing her ground so far, so why wasn’t she trying to fight back? It was like she took the insult to heart.

“Fine…let’s go.” She mumbled after a moment.

“Good,” the ranger was back to addressing Boone, “We clear out the hostages, and they lose their advantage. They’re down in the clearing crucified on some telephone poles.”

As he talked, the ranger began leading the two past the checkpoint and down towards Nelson. The place was decently in ruin, but what could you expect from an old, pre-war town?

“I’ll cover you from the ridge,” the ranger pointed to a small cliff overlooking the place, “Just make sure to make it quick. Those boys should be put out of their misery, not plinked to death with some old varmint rifle.”

“Got it.” Red muttered.

Boone had been shocked by a few things while traveling with Red. Everything from her occasional sharpshooting miracles to lying about being a cannibal to the White Glove Society. This was another of those things that shocked him. Red was a good person, not some drone that simply followed orders! As Ranger Milo headed for the ridge, the sniper stopped the courier with a hand to the shoulder.

“You can’t seriously be considering this.” He snapped.

She just gave him a hopeless look with her blue eye.

“Look, I know you may not be familiar with mercy killing, but it’s a last resort, not a tactical choice,” he told her, “We’re getting those men out of there.”

“But…” Red hesitated, “What if they’re really beyond saving? I mean, they break your bones before they hang you up there, and I don’t know if they’ve used nails or rope. Freeing them could just cause them a more painful, prolonged death.”

It looked like she was halfway there. He could tell she wanted to save them, to rush in and play the hero, but he could also tell there was something holding him back.

“C’mon, don’t let this guy walk all over you like Benny.” Boone tried to coax her.

“I am not!” she hissed, getting mad just at the name.

“Then why are you complying with his orders like a drone?” he snarled back.

“This is not me being a doormat, Boone!” she growled, “This is me making a decision on my own! Okay, I’ll think about saving them…but only if they aren’t beyond saving.”

He would have argued with her for longer, but the ranger was already at the top of the ridge, ready for the mission to start. He knew what the ranger expected of him.

“Fine. But I won’t help you kill any innocents.” Boone concluded.

Red snuck on ahead, ducking in and out of ruined buildings until she reached a point where she could see the crucified troops. There were three, all baking in the late morning sun as they hung off their poles, bleeding from all sorts of places. Boone watched as Red assessed them, looking over their crippled legs and lacerations. At first, she looked like she was going to spare them, judging by the way her expression softened. But then her slim fingers reached for her silenced 12.7 pistol, fingering the handle thoughtfully.

Her whimper nearly gave them away when Boone’s hand darted out and clutched her wrist. He tried to make some form of eye contact, to silently let her know that she was making a mistake, but she was more focused on getting out of his grip. When he realized he was probably hurting her, he released her. Slowly, she drew her weapon, then gave the three hostages another once over. She lined her sights up with the closest one and Boone looked away. He didn’t want to see this decently innocent courier bloody her name for the first time.

A shot rang out, followed by shouts from the Legion solders. Looking up from where he hid, Boone saw the NCR troopers were just as they were before. It was the unsuspecting Legionary that lie on the ground with a bullet in his head. Red came out of hiding, firing away and throwing the occasional grenade. Boone joined in the fight, sniping the enemies that were out of Red’s reach. After a few minutes and stimpaks, the fight was over, and Red was charging for the crucified troops. Boone was close behind, and heard Red whisper to herself as she looked around, “I can save them. I can save them.”

As quickly as she could, she cut the soldiers down from the telephone poles, having Boone catch them as they fell. When the three were all laid out. She immediately opened her pack, pulling out Med-x and a few medical braces.

“Wait, Red.” Boone spoke up.

Red glanced over to see the three all standing up on their own two feet. They were shaky, but by no means were they broken.

“Makes sense,” Boone pointed out, “The Legion took this place quickly, so they wouldn’t have had time to break their bones. They needed them crucified fast for leverage.”

The courier let out a moan of relief and let her head fall back like a huge weight had been lifted. She put all her medical supplies back into her pack, and began leading the rescued troops back. Red seemed relieved, but also a bit out of it.

“Glad you recognized we had other options.” He said.

She gave him a small smile which didn’t last. Red was never good about hiding her feelings. The two brought the three men back the checkpoint where Ranger Milo was waiting.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think you could do it,” he remarked, “Guess that makes me the sap and you the hero.”

At this, Red couldn’t help but beam a little. She always liked the praise she got at the end of an adventure; even better than the reward.

“I’m not authorized to pay for contract work, but here’s something for the effort. And I’ll make sure everyone hears about what you did,” the ranger reassured her, “Thanks.”

With that ordeal out of the way, Red and Boone had clear passage to Forlorn Hope. As they trekked back through Nelson, Red thought back on it all, trying to put two and two together. Boone was doing the same, wondering why Red would have even considered mercy killing.

“Boone?” the courier broke the silence, “Why did that ranger seem to only want to talk to you? It was like he wanted you to do the mission instead of me.”

“Back in the First Recon, we were often ordered to snipe hostages from afar,” Boone sighed, “Trying to get close would only make the Legion torture them more, so…they had us make the game a little simpler.”

Red bit her lip in a cringe, “So you did a lot of that…mercy killing, that is.”

“Yeah,” he replied gruffly, “Sometimes you wonder how many of them you could have saved.”

After that, Red was silent. Ranger Milo had expected Boone to kill the hostages simply because he was First Recon.

When they made the climb up Forlorn Hope, it was midafternoon, and the two were hungry. Red said that they might give them some lunch.

“What makes you think they’ll give us any food?” Boone asked bluntly.

“I have connections.” Red giggled.

When they made it to the camp, Red headed straight for the command tent, where everyone in charge would be. She just waltzed in like she totally belonged and not like they would throw her out for bugging them. At the center of the tent, a major and a few more strategists stood around a table with a map spread across it. They all spoke in hushed voices, seemingly very worried about something. The major looked up at the sound of Red’s arrival, and a look of recognition moved across his face when he saw the courier.

“Red,” he nodded with a smile, “Good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too, Major Polatli.” She answered with a weak salute.

“What are you doing back here?” he asked curiously.

“What? You thought I’d just leave and never come back?” she chuckled, “I came to lend a hand for a while. Just some in between work is all.”

“Good timing then,” the major glanced back down at the map, “Nelson just got hit, and we might need help taking it back. Right now, we don’t have the troops to spare—”

“Already done.” Red declared proudly.

“Er…what?”

“Yeah, Boone and I just cleared the place of Legionaries,” she bragged, “Saved the hostages too, so you guys are all clear to move back in.”

Major Polatli gave a relieved smile and exchanged looks with the strategists around him. Red had saved them a whole day of planning. Then the major cast a more dubious gaze back up at Courier Six.

“And the hostages were ok?” he asked.

“Y…Yeah. Why?” she shifted uncomfortably.

“None of them were…beyond saving?” he tried to be tactful.  
“Yes.” She answered, looking a little hurt by the question.

Why was she so damn hung up on who was worth saving and who wasn’t? Just as the awkward aura began to fill the room, the tent flap opened, revealing a fully armored NCR Ranger, helmet and all. He immediately had everyone’s attention, as most rangers would. He took off his Ranger helmet to reveal a tall Caucasian man with messy brown hair. He was young for his status, possibly even younger than Boone, but no way as young as Red.

“No need to stand on ceremony.” He joked.

“Leone!” Red exclaimed with a grin.

She wasted no time with running full speed at the ranger and tackling him with the biggest bear hug she could.

“Oof!” he grunted as she embraced him, “Heya, kid, how ya doin’?”

He eventually returned her affection with a hand through her crimson hair.

“I missed you.” The courier whispered sheepishly up at him.

“I missed you too, kid,” he said, “But remember the place we’re in right now.”

“Hm?” the courier suddenly remembered the militaristic environment.

She quickly let go and backed away from the ranger with a blush, stuttering out an apology. Some of the soldiers who were unfamiliar with Red had drawn their weapons, thinking Red was trying to assault him. Now that they saw that it was just a friendly gesture, they were putting their guns away again. Even still, Leone was a Ranger, and Red was a common civilian courier. For someone of her status to so informally address a man of his rank was shocking.

Polatli seemed used to it as he was chuckling lightly at the two, but Boone couldn’t believe she was on a first-name-and-hug basis with a ranger! Hell, even if she was close to him, hugs were not generally accepted in such a strict environment. Ranger Leone moved past his old friend and approached the major.

“Just reporting in, I guess,” he shrugged, “I came because I heard about Nelson, but…when I went to check things out, it seemed relatively tame.”

“That’s right,” the major nodded, “Red cleared it out on her way here.”

“Really?” Leone turned back to the courier with a smile, “Nice work, kid.”

The courier blushed again and avoided eye contact, mumbling that it was really nothing. 

“Well with Nelson taken care of,” the major interrupted the moment, “I’m sure Doctor Richards could use your help in the medical tent.”

“Sounds good,” Leone looped his arm with Red’s and led her towards the exit, “But let’s get some food first, I’m starving.”

Boone followed behind the two, obeying the growls in his own stomach. His companion turned their head to give him a cheeky grin as if to say “I told you I have connections.”  
\-------  
Notes: Thank you to whoever left a kudos! Don't forget, kudos and comments encourages writers to keep writing. Thanks to EpicOfMe for being a bad ass beta!


	3. Mission for Hope

NCR food rations hadn’t changed much since Boone left his tour of duty, but even still, it was a change from the Sunset Sarsaparilla and cans of pork and beans that Red ate on the road. Leone and his friend talked through the whole lunch and Boone couldn’t help but feel like he was third wheel to their little reunion.

“So how’s the courier life?” Leone asked through mouthfuls of food, “Or did you already get fired? Is that why you came back?”

“No, I didn’t get fired, “she rolled her eyes, “I’m still on a job actually, but it’s proving to be tougher than I thought. So, I decided to take a break from it and come help out here.”

“What kinda job is that?” Leone seemed confused, “I thought you couriers were supposed to keep walkin’ until you get from Point A to Point B.”

“Well this job…” Red let out a low whistle, “It’s been a doozey.”

The ranger leaned forward in his chair, eager to hear the tale. Boone was a bit curious himself, only knowing as much about the job as the rumors would give him.

“It started out simple enough: get a package to the New Vegas Strip,” Red began, “I headed out from Primm, then walked until I got into sight of Goodsprings and by then it was dark. Then I was ambushed a group of Great Khans. I tried to fight back, but they had caught me by surprise and they had me knocked out in seconds.”

Leone cursed the Khans under his breath as Red spoke.

“When I woke up, they had me tied up at the cemetery while they dug a shallow grave for me,” Red’s tone suddenly wavered at the memory and she looked down at her lap, “Then there was this guy in a checkered suit who looked nothing like others. Later I learned his name was Benny, and he had only hired the Khans to capture me. He was the only one who actually wanted the package. He told me that it may have seemed like a run of bad luck, but the truth was that the game had been rigged from the start. Then she shot me in head.”

“Red!” Leone gasped in concern, “Holy shit! And yet you’re still here?!”

Ranger Leone must have trusted Red considerably if he believed a story like that on the spot.

“Goodsprings had one hell of a doctor,” Red said, “He fished all the bits of led out of my brain, and had it working just as good as the day before.”

“I thought that was just rumor,” Boone spoke up, “You actually survived a shot to the head?”

Red blinked before nodding, “Yeah! Here, do you want to see the surgical scars?”

Before he could answer, she bowed her head and pushed her red hair back, revealing a jagged ring around the top of her skull, and a big spot of scarring not far from her left temple. So it was real. The First Recon sniper was certainly more impressed by the girl. Meanwhile, Leone gently took cupped both her cheeks, leaning her in closer to get a better look.

“Oh, Red,” he cringed as he tilted her head about, “This looks awful.”

The courier’s face became flushed again as her injuries were examined.

“B-but I’m ok now,” she tried to tell him.

Still worried, Leone released her and gave her a sweet look. By now, Red could barely make her blue eye look him straight on.

“Alright,” Leone cooed, “I just don’t want to lose you, kid, you know that.”

“Yeah. I…don’t want to lose you either…” she mumbled back, awkwardly tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Before Boone felt like he was playing third wheel to a reunion, but now he felt he was playing third wheel to a date. Red was never good at hiding her emotions, including love. Although it seemed more like puppy love in this case. Leone was quiet a moment before speaking as he just continued to smile sweetly back at the courier.

“Nah,” he finally shrugged, “You don’t need to worry about me, kid. Nothing’s gonna best a ranger like me.”

“If you say so.” Red giggled.

“That’s my girl,” he sighed, “Now I got some important ranger business to take care of and Doctor Richards is expecting you.”

“Right!” Red chirped and gulped down the last of her water, “See you around!”

“Later.” Leone called back.

The girl sat there for a few minutes, grinning slap happy into space before realizing that he was gone. When she finally snapped to, she shook her head and blinked hard.

“Right!” she stood up, “Back to work.”

The two marched through the camp before arriving at the medical tent where they found Doctor Richards. He was at his desk, writing away at what was probably a report. When he heard the two enter, he looked up, but looked nowhere near as pleasantly surprised as everyone else had.

“Red. Long time no see.” He said simply.

“Hey, Doctor Richards,” Red smiled, “Miss your old assistant?”

“Uh, well I can’t say I haven’t,” the doctor stood up from his desk, “What brings you back to camp?”

“I’m on a tough delivery job right now, so I decided to stop by and see if you guys needed; take a break from the courier life for a bit,” Red explained, “Major Polatli sent me here, said you might need some help.”

“Yes, a shipment of medical supplies hasn’t arrived yet and I’ve been expecting it for a few days now,” he told her, “I really need those supplies too. Things around here have been tough, and whenever a new shipment comes in, we’ve just about depleted the previous.”

“Yikes. Things have gone downhill since I left,” Courier Six grimaced, glancing at the beds full of wounded soldiers, “So you want me to go find the shipment?”

“That’s right. It had a GPS stashed away somewhere in it, so you should be able to track it with your Pip-Boy.”

Red flipped about on her Pip-Boy before nodding, “Got it, Doctor Richards. Looks like it isn’t too far from here. I’ll get it back then help you treat these patients.”

“See you then.” He answered stiffly.

As Red left the tent, Boone couldn’t help but notice the reluctance in the doctor’s behavior. He didn’t seem to miss her at all. As they headed back out into the wastes, Red tinkered with her Pip-Boy, making it show all kinds of weird symbols and numbers that only she could seem to make out.

“I thought you said you lived with your father.” Boone said.

“Huh?” Red put her Pip-Boy down.

“You said you grew up learning everything—er—half of what you know about weapon repairs from your father.”

“Oh, right!” Red remembered, “Well, life happened and…I guess, more accurately, Caesar’s Legion happened, and then there was no more town much less a repair shop.”

So Red had the common Mojave childhood: losing your family and your hope to the Legion. Boone couldn’t help but feel bad for prying, it was just that her occupations hadn’t added up. How did one go from aspiring gunsmith to medic to courier? Like that he guessed. The two were silent for a while as they trekked the desert until Boone answered.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled.

“Nah, it’s no big deal,” she tried to brush it off but her voice cracked, “Leone came and rescued me and took me back to Forlorn Hope. After that I just…hung around and they passed me off to the doctor. He taught me all he—I mean half of what he knew about medicine. I taught myself everything else.”

She waited patiently for him to make some kind of comment, but when he was just his usual silent self, she poked him in the arm.

“So come on, I’ve told you a bit about myself,” she pestered, “Now I wanna hear something about you.”

“What is there to know?” he droned.

He only hoped she wouldn’t ask about Carla.

“How did you become part of the First Recon?” she asked.

Boone thought back to the firing range where all he ever hit was the dead center of the target. His head was clearer back then, his targets simpler. No past regrets or guilt to hold him back from pulling the trigger.

“They pick you out at the firing range if your aim is good.” He gave a minimal answer, “The pay was a little better, so I took it.”

“…That’s it?” Red asked again and when he only nodded, she groaned, “Aaaw, I thought there was some cool test you’d have to past.”

“Not really.” He grunted.

The rest of the trip was quiet until they found the missing shipment. It was a shamble of metal boxes with two NCR bodies piled on top. The courier brought her Pip-Boy to her face again and studied the GPS signal.

“This is it according to my Pip-Boy.” She announced and began heading for the goods.

The sniper reached out and grabbed her shoulder stopping her in her tracks.

“Hang on,” he muttered, “Something’s not right.”

Red heeded his warning and looked ahead, scanning the crime scene. It was odd how perfectly the corpses were piled on the top of the crates.

“Yeah,” she muttered back, “This kinda does look like a trap.”

Wasting no time, she scanned the rest of the surrounding area, her blue eye studying their surroundings. Finally, she agreed with her partner and ordered him to hide. When he had taken position behind a small ridge, Red went ahead towards the shipment. At first, nothing happened. She opened each box and sure enough, the medical equipment was all there. The courier was about to signal for Boone to come out when the Legionaries jumped her.

Five closed in on her in all directions, and she could only focus on about two. Luckily, with how she had positioned Boone, he was able to snipe off the remaining three. A sigh of relief passed through Red’s lips as she holstered her pistol and slumped her shoulders. After that, it was a simple matter of hauling the supplies back to camp. They tried to split it: two boxes for each person, but after a while, Boone noticed Red was falling behind.

He took her second box despite her protests that she was fully capable of carrying two. Either way, they finished the job, and returned to camp in the late afternoon. The doctor rewarded Red, then advised they rest until morning since they had been up for almost 24 hours.

“I’ll help you with your patients tomorrow.” Red promised Richards.

“Of course.” The doctor answered half-heartedly.

For whatever reason, Red didn’t appear welcome in the medical tent, despite her clinical expertise. She herself felt the same way: that Doctor Richards was trying to somehow eject her from the tent with his mind.

“Good night, Boone,” she said to the sniper as they parted ways in camp, “Er, afternoon I guess.”

“Yeah.” Boone grunted in reply and trudged off for the men’s barracks.  
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Notes: Thanks to everyone who left kudos! If you want to leave a comment, please do! Tell me what you think of Red, Leone, or the character relationships. EpicOfMe is my awesome beta who helped polish this chapter. By the way, are you all super hyped for the Far Harbor DLC? The trailer just came out, and I can't stop watching different trailer analysis videos! I also can't decide if that synth at the end was Nick with a bunch of bulbs and wires in him, or just a new synth character. What do yall think?


	4. Red, the Ex-Assistant

Boone slept through the rest of the day, well through the night, and got up at dawn. He had slept so much the day before, he just couldn’t bring himself to sleep in. That and another nightmare had woke him up, and he didn’t want to risk revisiting it. Stepping out of the barracks, he saw the camp was just beginning to wake up itself. Looking past an organizing patrol squad, he caught sight of Red, looking blissfully well rested.

She stood at the edge of camp, surveying Nelson, and most likely admiring her accomplishment of liberating it. Taking in a breath of the fresh morning air, she stretched her arms upward and arched her back. The armored jumpsuit she wore stretched along with her, clinging to her in the right spots even if she was fairly flat-chested. As she strained herself, her mouth opened slightly and gave out, what Boone could only figure, a moan. His own imagination filled in what her moan would sound like. Somewhere in between girlish and squeaky and mature and low-pitched. Low-pitched for her age, but girlish in the way that she was still so naïve.

…Wait. Did he just stand there and observe all of that? Shaking his head in a disoriented way, he blinked a few times and tried to gather his bearings. Maybe he had just been travelling with her for too long. Yes, that was probably it. Trying to ignore the idea of her moan playing over in his head, he crossed the camp towards her. Maybe she noticed him behind her and maybe she didn’t. She was certainly perceptive enough to know when someone was coming up behind her, but she was also ignorant enough not to do anything about it, and just assume the person had no ill intentions.

“Red,” he addressed her, “What’s the plan for today?”

Turning, she simply gave him a wide-eyed stare and a blink.

“Wouldn’t be much of a help in the medical tent, so I wanted to know if there was anything else I could do.” He continued.

“I talked with Major Polatli this morning,” she answered, “He said you should patrol the surrounding area. Everywhere from Nelson to the place we picked up the shipment yesterday.”

“On it.” He accepted his task quickly.

“He’s happy to have you here. Major Polatli that is,” Red smiled, “It’s not often his camp sees a First Recon sniper, so anything you do for him is greatly appreciated.”

As usual, he just gave a grunt and a nod, leaving Red to head off for the medical tent. The two parted for the time, and when Red came to the doctor’s tent, Richards was already setting up for a procedure.

“What’s first?” she asked.

The doctor pointed to a patient covered in slashes, some of which looked infected. Red cringed at the sight. Machete wounds were all too common in the NCR since it was the Legion’s staple combat weapon. After digging around in the recovered shipment, she found Med-X, a bottle of whiskey, and surgical tubing. After some clinical mumbo jumbo, she finished her first task, and heard Doctor Richards struggling at the other end of the tent.

Peeking in on the operation, she could see some serious work going on. From what she could gather, the soldier had suffered severe close range blast trauma. Doctor Richards was picking out bit of shrapnel, but obviously trying to keep the patient under with regular doses of Med-X. All the while, he was cursing, occasionally looking back on the surgical tray as if exactly what he needed would magically appear.

“Doctor Richards?” Red spoke up.

“Not now,” he snapped, “This is very important.”

“Yes, I can see that,” she gave a bit of sass, “So let me help.”

The doctor gave her a skeptical look, then thought it over for a moment before allowing her to come further into the room. He explained the patient’s situation, but Red had already assessed it.

“He’s lost enough blood in the process, and if I continue, he’ll only lose more. That, and I’ll need more Med-X, but if I use anymore, I might kill him.” He explained.

“Why not use a stimpak?” she asked as she studied the patient.

“It wouldn’t be enough,” he shook his head, “It’d only be a waste of a good stimpak. No, I need something stronger. If you have any super stimpaks by chance, that would be helpful.”

“Actually, I do.” Red said.

Doctor Richards did a double take and his eyebrows rose up. Super stimpaks were not common, and it was surprising that a humble courier was in possession of one. Even more surprising that she was so freely handing it over.

“It’s probably better that I get rid of it,” she brought the stimpak out, “I keep mixing them up with normal stimpaks and wasting them.”

Richards went to take it from her, but she pulled away.

“I know how to do it.” She said as if he were insulting her intelligence.

Reluctantly, Doctor Richards let her approach the patient and inject the needle. As soon as the stimpak released that pressurized noise, the victim’s body relaxed. Red and Richards did the same, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Red,” he thanked her, “But I can take it from here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He replied sharply.

For someone she was supposed to be helping, Richards wasn’t leaving for many opportunities to be helped. Red was starting to get irked by him, and while in the past she might have yielded to his orders, now she was her own person. Sure, she left him to finish his work, but she moved onto the next patient that needed her attention. He had a bad leg injury. Really bad. After looking it over once, twice, even three times, she sadly realized the limb would have to be amputated. 

Gathering a medical brace, a bone saw, and of course, Med-X, she set to work to chopping his leg off. Hours later, when Richards finished his operation with the trauma patient, Red had finished the amputation. The doctor saw the disembodied leg in a bucket and nearly choked on the air.

“I see you’ve made it to this one,” he remarked as carefully as he could, “You should have told me you were performing an amputation.”

“Why? It’s not like I need any help.” Red told him with a cold tone.

“Still, I would have appreciated if you informed me before beginning.” He grumbled.

“Well as you can see, everything’s fine,” she presented the legless patient, “Except…the gangrene wasn’t just on his leg.”

“Oh?” the doctor leaned in to see as Red pulled up the victim’s sleeve.

There was a moderate amount of gangrene, but not nearly as much that had formed on his leg.

“It’s not so bad. I’ve seen worse,” the doctor shrugged, “Hook him up to a blood pack and he should be fine.”

Red only looked back up at him with a look that said “really?”

“I think it needs to go,” Red shook her head, “The gangrene has spread too far, and it’ll take another super stimpak to save him…which we don’t have.”

The doctor let out a bitter chuckle before pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing.

“You know this is dry gangrene, right? All he needs is some more blood pumping in him, and he’ll be fine.”

“But there’s just enough for a simple blood pack to not work. Doctor Richards, if we let this spread, it won’t be just his arm we’ll be cutting off.”

“We won’t be cutting off anything.” The doctor hissed as he leaned in towards the courier.

“There’s too much of it for treatment.” She argued.

“There’s not enough for amputation.” He argued right back.

The two stood in a stalemate, staring each other down, and waiting for the other to cave. Meanwhile, Boone had been hard at work patrolling Forlorn Hope’s parameters. First, he checked Nelson which some of the camp’s soldiers had already begun to fill in. On his way through the ruins, he saw the telephone poles that the hostages had been crucified to. It was weird seeing Red so discouraged; that she was going to mercy kill them. Boone knew he shouldn’t dwell on it. She saved them so there was no need to. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder why she wanted to give up on them.

It was also odd how the major questioned her methods afterwards, like he didn’t trust her. The doctor seemed even more reluctant to have the girl around. He acted like she was some new disease that he had to deal with. What was with Camp Forlorn Hope and Red? Not to mention that Leone guy. He was almost too charming for his own good. Boone was sure if he wasn’t a ranger, he’d be an escort at some casino in Vegas. Speak of the devil, on his way back through camp, who should he run into but Ranger Leone himself. Boone had only been cutting through the camp to get to the place of the abandoned shipment, but of course he had to run into a social encounter.

“Oh, hey there.” Leone smiled a decent smile.

He had more teeth than most soldiers he had seen. There were about two rotten ones at the front, but other than that, he was good.

“Hey.” Was Boone’s only response as he tried to move along.

“Woah, wait up!” Leone caught up with him, “You’re the one travelling with Red, right?”

“Yeah?”

“First Recon too?” Leone let out a whistle, “Red sure knows how to pick a companion. What’s your name by the way?”

“Craig Boone, but Red just calls me Boone.”

“Hmmm…” Leone hummed for a second as he gave the sniper a once over, “How long have you been travelling with Red?”

“About a month.” He answered, beginning to get suspicious by all the ranger’s questions.

“And how did you two meet?”

Now Boone was just directly giving him a dubious glare from behind his shades. Their first meeting wasn’t something he was willing to describe openly. It involved revenge-driven murder from the mouth of dinosaur and unwanted questions about his late wife. The ranger sweated nervously under his stare and scratched his head.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled, “It’s just that I want to know who she’s travelling with; make sure she’s safe. Well, as safe as one can be in the Wasteland.”

“Red told me you saved her when she was younger.” Boone said.

“That’s right,” Leone nodded, “Ever since then, she’s been like a little sister to me.”

Boone restrained himself from rolling his eyes because it was so obvious that relationship was one-sided. Red saw Leone way more than just honorary siblings and to think that Leone hadn’t seen that yet was ridiculous.

“So you are keeping an eye on her, right?” the ranger asked seriously.

Boone assured him in his gruff voice, “She can usually handle herself just fine. Needs me sometimes though. Having one eye messes up her aim.”

The ranger sighed and shook his head as he remembered Red’s condition.

“She was like that when I found her,” he reminisced, “The Legion took it when she tried to escape. Still, she was lucky to make it out with her life. Not many others survived the attack.”

Things were quiet between the NCR vets as Boone kept his usual harsh face and Leone looked sadly on into space. Then Leone snapped out of his glum state, taking in a sharp breath and resuming their talk.

“So you’re watching her back?” he repeated.

“Mhm.” Boone grunted.

“Good. Because ever since she got kicked out of here, she’s had a hard time trusting anyone else. It’s like I’m the only one.”

Kicked out? Boone had at least a few questions, but was cut off by a commotion. Just ahead in camp, they saw Doctor Richards emerge from the medical tent. He walked quickly, fresh blood stains on his shirt from operating, and pushing Red away from his territory with a cross expression. Stern words were exchanged between the doctor and the courier but Boone and Leone were too far away to hear. That, and Red and Richards were speaking at the same time, making it difficult to make heads or tails of their argument.

“Ah shit,” Leone cursed, “I was worried this might happen.”

Before Boone could ask, he saw Doctor Richards hold out both his hands in front of Red. Much like you would to a dog if commanding it to stay. Then he went back into the medical tent, leaving Red fuming outside. She clenched her red hair in her hands so hard it looked like she was going to rip it out! Then she arched her back and threw her head up to the sky, teeth clenched like she wanted to scream, but she held back. After all, it would be bad form to shriek in a military camp. So instead, she just stormed off towards the desert, looking like she wanted to murder a deathclaw.

Leone groaned and slumped his shoulders, “I probably shouldn’t go after her right now. She’ll need to cool down.”

With that, the ranger headed for the medical tent, “I’m going to have a word with Doctor Richards. Nice meeting you, Boone.”

The sniper only gave a nod in response and was left wondering what that whole scenario was about. So he had been right about tensions being between Red and Richards. It seemed like everyone knew but him, even Leone. Nevertheless, he knew he couldn’t dwell on the issue. He still had a job to finish; a job that was disrupted later that evening around dusk. He was covering the last area around camp when he spotted Red through his scope. The girl was up on some craggy rocks that she had scaled, poking away at her Pip-Boy.

He had caught her before tinkering with its inner coding, trying to get it to work faster, or improve VATS accuracy. She was most likely recalculating the range accuracy of it. Boone figured he better retrieve her, considering she couldn’t stay sulking all night, and besides, it was almost time for dinner. Approaching her, she didn’t even bother to look up, but she knew he was there.

“Hey, Boone.” She greeted him.

“Leone’s been looking for you,” he said, “You should go back to camp.”

“Why?” she shrugged, “My only job was to help Doctor Richards, but he said he doesn’t need my help anymore.”

She didn’t seem at all mad, like she had taken time to cool down. But if one looked closer, they would see it was typical female passive aggressiveness.

“Either way, you should go back. It’ll be dark soon.” Boone advised.

“Just let me stay out here a little longer.” She retaliated in an innocent tone.

The only noise that followed was the beeping and booping of her Pip-Boy as she tinkered with it. Boone began to wonder just what she did back in the doctor’s tent. Maybe she wasn’t going back because she had done something really, really bad and there would be serious consequences for returning.

So Boone asked, “What did you screw up?”

Apparently that wasn’t a very good way to phrase it, because Courier Six snapped, “I didn’t screw up anything! He did!”

Boone scoffed in annoyance, “I don’t understand. Who screwed up?”

Red scoffed back, equally as annoyed. She found it irksome how men didn’t pick up on the hidden messages in female rants. He was supposed to be siding with her, asking how the doctor fucked up, and cheering her up…then again, Boone was the very opposite of cheer.

“We got into an argument over a patient,” she admitted, “I wanted to amputate his arm, but Doctor Richards said it could be treated, which it couldn’t. If we waited any longer, the gangrene would have spread too far to be dealt with! Now I bet the patient’s condition is even worse. Anyways, the doctor kicked me out. His own assistant! Well…maybe X-assistant.”

Boone remembered what Leone had said before about her getting kicked out.

“Leone told me the major kicked you out of camp last time.”

The courier laughed bitterly and bit her lip before breathing, “Is that what he said? ‘Kicked out?’ I guess that’s not a totally inaccurate statement. I was sort of…politely asked to find another occupation. It was rough because I had been working there since I was barely a teenager.”

“Why’d they make you go?” her partner asked.

Giving a dejected sigh, the courier slid down from her perch, landing beside him. With a hopeless expression, she leaned up against the rocks and for a moment didn’t answer.

“Because…I let two soldiers die incredibly painful deaths.” She whispered, barely audible as she tried to fight a lump in her throat.

It took a few seconds for her to collect herself again, but when she did, she told him the story.

“The first time it happened, I was seventeen. Doctor Richards and I were given a patient whose lungs were badly damaged. They were destined to collapse, and he said it was only a matter of time. Richards said he’d only take up space in the tent, slowly wasting away as each breath caused him extreme pain. He…he wanted to put the man out of his misery.”

Red stopped and glanced up at Boone with her blue eye.

“I guess you could say he wanted to mercy kill him,” she mumbled grimly, “But I was younger. More naïve back then.”

Boone held back a snort. She was still naïve.

“I thought I could save him,” Red went on, “I thought that as long as his heart was still beating, that there was a way. I mean, he looked just fine on the outside, so I figured he was the same on the inside. But, oh, how I was wrong. Doctor Richards let me continue working with the patient, but he left me with the lethal injection. He said that while I had a slim chance of healing him, that if anything should turn south, I should just kill him.”

“One night, I was up with the soldier when I noticed his breathing becoming weaker…wheezier. I knew if I didn’t end it there, he’d die slowly, each breath as painful as the last!” her voice was beginning to waver and crack, and Boone was worried he’d have to deal with a crying girl, but she pulled herself together, “But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I just sat there, trying more and more to keep him going, but…I…”

Boone waited patiently for her to finish.

“Seven hours later he died,” she muttered, “Seven hours! Seven hours of suffering that he could have been spared of! I should have ended it! I should have shown him mercy, but I though by keeping him alive I was showing him mercy! But I was just condemning him!”

Red’s story struck a chord with the sniper. He thought back to Carla, and how he ended her life instead of condemning her to life of slavery in the Legion. The pain of killing out of mercy was one he knew all too well. He tried to think of something to say to show that he could sympathize with her.

“I’m sorry. Killing out of mercy is hard.” He murmured.

Hard. Hard didn’t even begin to describe it.

“…Yeah…Yeah, I guess you’d know,” Red thought back on all the killing he did in the First Recon, “You’d think I’d learn from something that, but two years later, I let it happen again. And that was the last straw. I lost the doctor’s trust, and Major Polatli said I ‘might be suited for a different kind of work.’ So that’s how I became a courier.”

Boone let her catch her breath after her speech. It had gotten her a little worked up, which was strange to see from such a usually optimistic person.

“Ready to head back now?” he finally asked.

“Yeah…” she nodded, “Uh…sorry for all that. It must have been weird for you to hear.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Boone just grunted as he went back to camp with Red.

When they arrived back, they found Leone looking around anxiously, clearly searching for his “sister.” As he caught sight of her, the ranger sighed in relief and approached her.

“There you are!” he placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder, “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“Well, I-I’m fine.” Red stuttered as her cheeks were dusted pink again.

Then Leone looked over at Boone with a smile.

“Thanks for bringing her back. I guess you really do keep a good eye on her.”

The sniper gave his usual silent nod in response. Ranger Leone looked back at Red and pulled her close to him, arm around her shoulder. Now her pink face went full crimson.

“C’mon, let’s get some dinner in you, kid,” he told her as he led her towards the mess hall, “And don’t give many any crap about not being hungry. You skipped lunch today and…”

His voice faded off into the distance and Boone was left watching the two. It was sort of painful to see their relationship so unfair. One saw the other like a sibling while the other saw them as potential lovers. Oh well, he figured. Red would have to learn about love, too, the same way she had to learn about mercy killing: the hard way.  
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Notes: Thanks for reading and please leave a kudos or even a comment! Only 9 more days until Far Harbor! Also, there's some knowledge I assume my readers know, like I assume you know about Boone's backstory. I felt like if I rewrote all that into the story, it would just bore you since most of you probably already know it. And if not, there's a Wikia page for Boone. Thanks to EpicOfMe for being my badass beta.


	5. Words of Wisdom

“…So if the gangrene was left to just be treated, it would only spread!” Red completed her tale over dinner.

The ranger shook his head, disappointed that Red and Doctor Richards had started bickering on day one. He was also lost a few times in Red’s story by all the medical jargon she used.

“I spoke to Doctor Richards after you left. Tried to diffuse the situation.” Leone told her.

“How mad was he?” she cringed.

“Pretty pissed,” Leone sighed, “He said he couldn’t believe the major would let you work in the medical tent again.”

“What about the patient?” Red asked.

“Didn’t see,” Leone shrugged, “After he complained about you, he told me to leave.”

“Stupid prick,” Red growled, “Thinks that whole tent belongs to him.”

“Well he is the head doctor around here,” Leone mumbled awkwardly as he bit into his food.

“Yeah, yeah.” She replied dismissively.

“So what will you do now?” Leone asked after a while, “You’re basically banned from the medical tent, and Major Polatli doesn’t really have any more work.”

Red just took a few more bites of her meal, thinking as she did. Then she slumped her shoulders and propped her head up on her hand.

“I guess continue helping the NCR,” she mumbled, “That way I can build up my own strength while helping you guys. Once I’m tough enough, I’ll chase Benny down and take back the platinum chip.”

“Just be careful out there,” Leone uttered, “I couldn’t bear losing you.”

“I-I…Don’t worry!” Red squeaked in embarrassment, “Besides, I’ve got Boone watching my back!”

“Yeah, I got to talk to the guy,” Leone chuckled, “He isn’t really a man of many words, but I believe he’ll look out for you.”

“First Recon are pretty awesome.” she agreed.

Soon, the two friends finished their dinner and left the mess hall. Outside, it was dark, with only the fires around the camp to light their surroundings. Leone was about to say that they should turn in when the courier suddenly took his hand softly, but with a clingy nature.

“Wait. I’m not tired yet,” she uttered, “And…I still want to talk you.”

Leone chuckled at her odd behavior, “Something on your mind?”

She glanced up at the ranger with a needy expression and nodded. So he squeezed her hand reassuringly and led her to the edge of Forlorn Hope, finding a nice ridge to sit on. He let go of her hand, but Red wished he’d hold it for longer.

“If they really don’t have anything left for me to do, then I guess I’ll be leaving tomorrow,” Red sighed, “So this will be the last time I have with you for a while.”

“Thus is the life of a courier and a ranger,” he concurred, “So did you just want to be around me or there something else, kid?”

It was a bit of both. Red dropped her head, staring at her blistered hands that chapped overtime from the dry air of the Mojave and the rough edges of her pistol.

“I’m confused,” she confessed, “Ever since I came back, all I can think about is when it’s right to kill.”

Leone gave her a confused look, so she tried to explain things better.

“Like…I should have killed those two patients in the past; the ones I let suffer,” she said,  
“But when I took back Nelson, I wanted to kill those hostages. They looked beyond saving, and I thought it would be better to just put them out of their misery. But when I got closer, it turned out they were ok.”

Then she looked back up at her friend, “But those patients I tried to save seemed ok too, but they weren’t. I just…don’t know when its right to…”

She tried to think of the right word, then remembered the term Boone used.

“…Mercy kill.” She finished.

“You did the right thing in the end.” He assured her.

“…But it showed me that looks can be deceiving,” Red kept going, “Someone may look broken, but that doesn’t mean they’re beyond saving. Those hostages looked as good as dead, but they were still alright. So then what about those two patients who I…well they looked broken, but I thought they weren’t. I tried to save them, and…I guess I’m just lost. I just don’t know how to show the right mercy.”

The ranger stayed quiet for a minute, thinking about all that his friend had said. The whole situation really seemed to be bothering her, so he wanted to make sure he said the right thing.  
“Sometimes the greatest mercy we can show someone is ending them…” he finally spoke, “But sometimes it’s giving them another chance. You’ll be able to tell the difference someday, Red. I know it.”

Her sky blue eye looked up at him sadly, showing she was doubtful of that last part.

“Will I?” she questioned, “I have a bad feeling that I’ll end up shooting some poor sap who just needs a stimpak, or pumping rebound into a guy whose heart is failing.”

“Kid, don’t say stuff like that,” he pleaded with blue eyes of his own.

It caught the courier off guard when he gently took her by the chin and turned her head to face him. Now all she saw was his stubbly face, all creased and wrinkled with worry. She couldn’t help but stare back into his mesmerizing eyes.

“Listen to me: you’re smart,” Leone whispered, “You’re a damn prodigy, kid. You’re damn amazing.”

Unable to take the sudden barrage of flattery, Red turned her head away in an attempt to hide her blush. The ranger, however, just led her face right back towards his. Luckily it was dark enough outside that he couldn’t see her blush anyway.

“You’ll figure it out,” he told her determinedly, “You always do. It’s just that you’re young right now, and things like this take time.”

“I…” Red tried to speak but her voice kept dying in throat out of nerves. It was just so strange to be this close to her crush’s face, “I…I-I’m twenty, you dork!”

She tried to play the whole thing off and punch him in the arm, but the hit was so awkward and weak that it only made things weirder.

“Really? Already?” Leone stifled a laugh, “My, how the time flies. I remember when you were just thirteen years old, walkin’ around Forlorn Hope like a fish out of water.”

Rather than laugh along and reminisce with him, the courier just stared down at her lap with a pensive expression.

“You were always there for me…” she mumbled.

“Ah, not always,” Leone shrugged, “I had long assignments I had to go on.”

“But then you’d come right back…” she murmured, “Even when you were gone I knew you’d always be with me.”

“Always am, kid.” Leone nodded as he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder.

Ranger Leone figured they’d sit there for a few more minutes in silence until Red felt safe enough to go to bed. Instead, she looked up with a hopeful yet brave expression, like she knew she was taking a shot in the dark, but she wasn’t afraid.

“…I love you.” She uttered.

…

“Uh…love you too, kid.” Leone chuckled nervously, not used to such cheesy affection.  
Usually they’d just banter back and forth, simply hinting at their friendship, but this was much more of a direct approach.

“No, not like that,” Red shook her head, “I mean…I love you like…you know. Intimately. Not platonically.” She clarified.

Leone just gave her an expression that read like he had been totally been taken by surprise. He stayed that way for a few moments, unsure of what to say, while Red just gazed on at him with her sincere eye never breaking eye contact for a second. Shit, he thought. She was serious!

“Oh, Red,” he let out a long sigh, letting his posture go into a slump and dropping his head, “Red, Red, Red…”

Then she just started shaking his head, letting the poor girl know that he did not feel the same way. She could already feel her heart slowly sinking from her chest. Then he pulled her into a hug, holding her there, and perching his head on hers. Normally, she would be at peace in his arms, but now she just felt unwelcome.

“No, kid, no…” he said softly.

Giving her a peck on the top of her rosy hair, he let her go. He looked so sorry. Leone always wanted to do whatever he could for Red, but not this.

“You know I would give you anything in the world if I could,” he cooed, “But I could never be with you.”

Courier Six broke eye contact, letting her gaze fall to the dirt. Her heart just kept sinking. Farther, farther, and farther. Rather than let her misery show, she just cracked a fake smile and hugged her knees to her chest.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he sighed, “I love you so, so much and I hate hurting you, but…I can’t just lie about this. I don’t see you in that way.”

“Well…at least I finally said it.” She mumbled.

“How long’s this been on your mind, kid?” Leone asked carefully.

“Um…” she took a moment to rub her eyes, trying to keep them from watering, “It started with a dumb crush when I was fifteen…but then it never went away.”

Leone suddenly felt like a fucking idiot. Five years she had harbored feelings for him and he never noticed. How was he supposed to know?! By the way she looked at him? The way she always said she missed him? Or was it how she’d always take any excuse to hug him or hold his hand, or maybe it was…oh. Guess it had been obvious. He was just stupid. He hit his forehead with his palm, scolding himself for being so dense.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner,” he grimaced, “We could have gotten this out of the way a long time ago.”

“Gotten it out of the way.” Yeah. Red was happy to have this over and done. No more sleepless nights where she ran through different confession scenarios, and no more feeling anxious when he held her close. It was all over now, but it didn’t have the ending she was expecting. Now, looking back at the ranger, she realized it couldn’t have ended any other way.

The way he always called her “kid”, how he’d always mess up her hair like a little sibling, the fatherly ways he’d dote on her. All he ever saw her as was a friend, a sister, a daughter, but never a lover. To think that she could ever change that relationship was foolish. When she first met him, she had lost all her friends and every member of her family.

He was the only one to step in to take their place, filling every role of father, brother, and friend at the same time. Suddenly coming on to him out of the blue was like looking a gift horse in the mouth. Like shoving away the replacement family she had been given, and asking for a refund; a “better” relationship. Now, Red just felt selfish.

“No,” she shook her head, “I-I’m…sorry.”

She hated that he was the first to apologize when it really should have been her. Red felt like the idiot here. She stood up from the ground to leave, and despite all Leone’s attempts to have her stay and talk things over, she continued on to the barracks. Unfortunately, she didn’t sleep at all that night. All she could think of was how stupid she had been! How could she have ever thought that Leone would have wanted her too? The next morning, she was up even before Boone, organizing her equipment and supplies. No point in sleeping in if she couldn’t fall asleep in the first place.

Boone expected to be the one waiting on her to get up, but he found her at the camp’s entrance, tapping at her Pip-Boy. When he approached, she gave a monotone “morning”, not even bothering to look up.

“So where to?” he asked.

Now she looked up, but it was at the road ahead and not him. It was then he saw the redness around her eye, like she had been crying. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she was. Red never could hide her feelings, and right now, she couldn’t hide her “who cares anymore” feeling.

“Camp McCarran,” she answered simply, “We’ll stop there and see if they need any help. Then we’ll stop at Vegas. Got some business with Mr. House.”

Usually it was Boone who spoke in short, blunt spurts, but today it was Red’s turn. The sniper wondered what had her acting so bitter when he heard someone call his partner’s name. The two turned to see Ranger Leone running through the camp up to them. When he reached them, he was out of breath, but wasted no time in talking to the courier.

“You were gonna leave without saying goodbye?” he asked between wheezes.

“Mhm. I mean, I didn’t want make things anymore…” she paused and looked away from him, “…Complicated.”

Boone felt like this was a conversation he shouldn’t be present for, and he was about to make some excuse about scouting ahead when the mood suddenly lightened up.

“There’s nothing to complicate,” Leone smiled and placed a loving hand on Red’s head, “Can’t a ranger see his friend off?”

Friend. There was that word that Red had been so scared of. So worried that they’d be like that forever. But now she felt so relieved that they were still friends. Leone could have easily distanced himself from her after turning her down to avoid making things awkward between them. Their whole relationship could have been broken by last night, but it wasn’t. Red decided it was a blessing that they were still friends, and it was a blessing that she would cherish even though it would take a bit for her to get over the heartbreak.

“Y…yeah,” Red finally gave a weak smile in return, “See ya, Leone.”

“See ya, kid.” He replied and removed his hand from her head.

And just like that, Courier Six and her First Recon sniper were back on the open road, a place they had both missed.  
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Notes: Please leave a comment if you like Red's story so far! 4 more days until Far Harbor. Beta is EpicOfMe.


	6. Latin

Camp McCarran hadn’t changed a bit since the last time Boone was there. Same old pre-war airport with the same tents dotting the old world parking lot. The same First Recon presence as well, and Boone was given many positive remarks about his red beret. Every time somebody said “that red’s looking good on you, soldier” or “I wish I had a First Recon watching my back”, Red would smirk back at her companion, proud that her partner was so recognized. But like always, he just kept a deadpan expression like none of it mattered. Occasionally he’d acknowledge somebody with a nod, but that was it.

Either way, they had made it, and that was all they cared about. Apparently, Polatli had radioed ahead to inform the Colonel of Red’s arrival, and he already had a job in mind for her.

“I know just how to put your smarts to use,” Colonel Hsu smirked as he looked the courier up and down, “How good is your Latin?”

“Non malus.” Red shrugged.

Boone shot her a suspicious glance. How did she know Latin? As far as he knew, the only relations she had with the Legion was when they tore her home to the ground.

“I suppose that means ‘yes’,” Hsu guessed, “Then go upstairs and talk to Lieutenant Boyd. Short hair, stern expression, looks like she’s been up for days. She’s got somebody you should meet.”

“Um…ok?” Courier Six had a suspicious look too, but hers was directed at the Colonel.

She wasn’t sure if she liked his cryptic assignment. Nevertheless, she signaled for Boone to follow her out and up the stairs. Just like the Colonel said, an NCR officer was leaning against a wall just outside a door, looking irritated and tired. Carefully, Red approached, and the woman cast her a “what the fuck do you want” look.

“C-Colonel Hsu sent me up here. He said you need help with something…you are Lieutenant Boyd, right?” Red squirmed under her stare.

“Yes, that’s me,” she spat irritably, “Well if you’re here to help, I hope you’re good at interrogations.”

The idea caught Red off guard. Sure she had been honing her silver tongue and sure she was decent at reading people, but she had never done anything like interrogation! For a moment, she hesitated, wondering if she should decline and have the Colonel give her another job, but seeing how miserable Boyd looked, she realized the officer desperately needed help.

“I could give it a shot.” Red offered.

The lieutenant mumbled something like “we’re doomed” then spoke up again, “Good enough. I’ve got a Legion centurion in there and he hasn’t spoken a word for days.”

The courier gasped at the title. Centurions were one of the toughest ranks in Caesar’s Legion; difficult to kill, and even more so to capture. Most Legion soldiers would sooner take their own lives than fall into enemy hands. Boyd led the two into the interrogation room which was small, but had half the wall covered in glass so that they could see into the other side and the prisoner in question. He looked as tough as Red imagined a centurion would be. A stern, taunt face and glimpses of toned flesh beneath his heavy centurion armor.

“And you managed to keep him from killing himself?” the courier asked.

“Not exactly. This one just gave himself up even as his men were slitting their own throats,” Boyd explained, “Sounds like a man who’s willing to cooperate. Except he hasn’t. The only times he speaks up are to insult you which makes him a real prick, and I’m somehow supposed to get information out of him!”

Red stared at the centurion through the glass, analyzing him like a science book, while he just kept his head down, refusing to acknowledge his audience.

“Doesn’t sound like a man who’s willing to cooperate to me,” Red observed, “Sounds more like a man who wants to be captured.”

Boyd perked up at the notion, “I didn’t consider that…I wonder what motives he’d have for coming here then. Even still, we’ll never know any of it if we can’t get him to talk.”

“Have you tried beating him senseless?” Boone growled.

The lieutenant and the courier turned to him, Red looking astonished while Boyd just chuckled bitterly. Red knew Boone hated the Legion—he had warned her that he would open fire on any he saw—but this was a little over the top. The centurion was locked up for goodness sake! Not only that, but unarmed as well, and all Boone could think of was taking out his Legion rage on him?

Meanwhile, the lieutenant just smirked and shook her head, “I would if I could, but protocol forbids any forms of torture or extreme violence against our prisoners…then again…”

She turned to Red, “You’re not one of the NCR, so I could always have you take a go at him. Rough him up a bit, and strike some fear into him, then he’ll sing like a choir boy.”

Red declined the idea, “Senseless beating really isn’t my forte…”

She paused to cast a glare at Boone, as if to tell him to get his temper in check.

“…but the Colonel sent me up here because of my brains, not my brawn,” she continued, “So just let me try talking first.”

Lieutenant Boyd thought it over for a second before nodding. She told Red to wait outside while she prepped the centurion for interrogation. When she entered the cell, Red watched the exchange through the glass. She also glanced over at Boone, who was staring daggers at the Legion officer. It was like he was so damn close to strangling the life out of him, but he just couldn’t. Much like chaining a dog up and holding a piece of fresh meat just short of his chain.

“Long time, no see, Silus.” Boyd greeted the prisoner with every ounce of snark in her.

“Lieutenant, I was just thinking about you.” the centurion looked up.

“That so?”

“I was. I was just thinking about that pretty neck of yours.”

“How sweet.”

“I was thinking about how it would look with a Legion slave collar on it.” Silus went on.

Boone heard Red take a steady, deep breath next to him like she was trying to stay calm.

“I’ll pass.” The lieutenant rolled her eyes as she pulled out a cigarette.

“Do you know what I love about our slave collars, Lieutenant?” Silus asked with a scowl.

Boyd lit her cigarette and took a slow drag before retorting, “If you love them, maybe you should try one on.”

“I love how tightly they fit,” he corrected her, “I train my men to make sure the slaves’ flesh bulges a bit around the top and bottom. Know why?”

Red took another deep breath, but now her fists were clenched. Boone wondered if his anger had spread to her, or if it was just the topic of collars.

“It’s all the rage in fashion circles?” Boyd rolled her eyes.

“Not quite,” Silus continued with his graphic monologue, “If you fit it just right, their body never gets used to the feeling of wearing it.”

That was what almost pushed the courier over the edge. She flinched and bowed her head, bringing her right hand up to her neck as if to make sure nothing was strapped to it.

“It cuts in just enough so when they swallow or turn their head, it reminds them who they belong to. It’s that constant reminder that keeps them docile.” Silus finished his description.

Now Red tried another breath to keep calm, but the exhale was so shaky, Boone had to wonder if she was ok. She even gave a few heavy swallows too, like Silus had talked about.

“Red,” Boone said under his breath, “You don’t have to go in there.”

She kept her head down, gently fingering her neck, before looking back up at him. She looked beyond pissed, and that wasn’t an expression he was used to seeing on her.

“Yes, I do. If I don’t make him talk, no one will.” She answered determinedly.

“Red—” He tried to get through to her again, but Boyd was already introducing the courier to the equation.

“In that case, maybe you’d better save the collar you were going to give me.” She smirked  
“Oh? For whom?”

“For a friend of mine you’re about to meet. My friend isn’t very docile.”

“That’s right. I’m not, you bastard.” Red murmured.

“She also isn’t one of the NCR, so those silly rules against violence towards prisoners of war don’t apply to her.” Boyd explained.

Red looked ready to charge in there and follow up on those threats; show him that she wasn’t going to abide by those silly rules. Boone didn’t like how the whole situation had been triggering her so far, but he still wanted to see the centurion get beaten up by the courier. He didn’t know what he wanted more: to see justice served to the jerk or Red to stay clear of him. The sniper didn’t have long to think about it because the lieutenant brought his partner into the cell.

Boyd said she’d be back in a bit to see how the two were “getting along”, then left. She waited on the other side with Boone, watching from behind the glass. For the first few seconds, Red couldn’t meet the soldier’s gaze, she just stared ahead with anger burning in her eye. When she pivoted on her heels and walked straight for him, Boone swore she was going to grab him by the neck and begin a slew of threats. Instead, she stopped just in front of where he sat, and stared him down.

“What an ugly little worm you are,” Silus snarled at his new interrogator, “What pile of excrement did the lieutenant pluck you from, worm?”

She just continued her death glare, and now Boone knew she was going to snap. But then she cracked a malicious smile which was strangely more intimidating than her last face.

“I’m with the Legion,” she lied expertly, “I’m here to kill you before you talk.”

Boyd gave the First Recon sniper a surprised look. She hadn’t expected her little helper to take that route.

“You’re nothing,” Silus didn’t buy it, “You’re some inept mercenary the NCR is paying to supplement its own incompetent soldiers.”

Ok, now she was going to punch him in the face. Surely.

“Legum servi sumus. Caesar’s law that is, and you are in violation.” Red spoke with an authoritative voice.

“What did she just say?” Boyd asked Boone, but he only shrugged in response.

“What?” Silus began to break, “No, listen, Caesar’s secrets are safe with me. I stayed alive because Caesar would have wanted it. I’m useless to him dead.”

“What Caesar would have wanted is for you to have killed yourself,” Red filled the room with her voice, “Isn’t that what we’re taught on Day One? Melior mori quam esse captum. And here you are, a centurion, too cowardly to perform a simple suicide. You endanger Caesar by staying alive. Do you even realize that?”

With his pride so wounded, the centurion started opening up further, “I’ve told them nothing! They’ve gotten nowhere! I’m a centurion, for Christ’s sake. I deserve his trust!”

“Pft,” she scoffed, “Fatue…”

That must have been an insult because Silus’ fists clenched from within the cuffs and his expression hardened.

“…Caesar’s law is absolute. No exceptions.” She articulated the last bit.

Now the centurion was down to bargaining as he began to look more panicked.

“You have to let this go. I’ll disappear,” he told her with a hint of pleading in his tone, “No one will ever see me again. That was always the plan in the first place.”

“So in addition to treason, you’re also a deserter,” she smirked, “You really are just a coward, aren’t you?”

“No!” he quickly yelped, “That’s not what I meant! I—Lieutenant! This…this woman is trying to kill me! She’s not who you think she is!”

Squealing for protection. Red had called it: he was a coward. It occurred to Boone that it must have been all the more humiliating for him to be put down by a female. There were none in the Legion’s ranks, but there were some who acted as spies and undercover assassins for Caesar. Silus probably figured one of the Legion’s eyes and ears had found him. The lieutenant walked into the other side of the room with a smirk to match Red’s.

“Ugh, all that shouting,” she groaned, “Honestly, Silus, you get free room and board. The least you could do is be a good guest.”

“Lieutenant, this woman is an agent of the Legion on a mission to kill me!” He accused Red.

“My, my,” the lieutenant mused, “We have an active imagination today, don’t we?”

“Think about it! Is it worth the risk? You need what I know!”

“Well, sounds like the two of you are becoming fast friends.” Boyd remarked.

“It’ll be your head if I die, Lieutenant,” Silus tried to reason with her, “You’ll be disgraced!”

“You’re right, Silus, except…I don’t care,” the lieutenant cast aside the cigarette she had been smoking, “Because it’ll be worth it. It’ll be worth it to never have to hear you say another word, Silus.”

Then she looked back to Red and ordered her to carry on. The centurion tried calling after her, but Boyd was just as she said, beyond caring. Once he was alone with the courier again, he slowly shifted his eyes back on his tormentor. Red walked back up to him and put her hands on her hips.

“You don’t have to do this.” Silus had stopped trying to act tough, and was outright begging.

“Did you honestly believe you could escape death? That it wouldn’t come back to get you?” she asked.

“If I had killed myself then I would’ve been murdering one of Caesar’s greatest soldiers,” he tried to tell her, “Either choice is a betrayal of the Legion, as I see it.”

“And I see it as a whiny excuse,” Red snapped, “You flatter yourself, Silus. If you were truly one of Caesar’s ‘greatest’ soldiers, you would have ended it all before the NCR got to you.”

“I’ve done everything Caesar ever asked of me!” the centurion finally yelled, “And this is how I’m repaid?! With assassination?!” 

“Propudium. From where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve hardly done anything for Caesar,” Red tried baiting him, “Except handing your ass over to the enemy like a pussy and expecting special treatment for it.”

Silus’ hands were bound by handcuffs, but the rest of him was free. He lurched from his metal chair, his whole face screwed up in rage as he wrapped his fingers around Red’s neck and pushed her into the wall. Boone was quick to ready his rifle head for the door, but Boyd put out an arm to stop him.

“Just wait, we might still get something out of him.” She hissed.

“THREE DAYS!” Silus roared, “THREE DAYS I waited for Caesar to dispatch us! I haven’t breathed a word about our operations here!”

Operations in Camp McCarran? Boyd was unaware of any Legion “operations” in the camp. Meanwhile, Red’s blue eye was opened wide in shock, but she didn’t fight the centurion. To suddenly striking back might make him defiant all over again, keeping them from getting any more info.

“I’ve proven my loyalty!” he continued to scream in Red’s face, “All you’re doing is killing a loyal soldier! You stupid bitch, I ought to put you in your place! If this is Caesar’s—”

BANG! The centurion’s blood splattered across Red’s face as Boone let rip a bullet into his skull. Silus dropped to the floor, lifeless and useless. Lieutenant Boyd rushed into the cell after Boone, fury showing in her eyes.

“You idiot! I told you not to go in yet!” she shouted, “We still could have gotten more out of him!”

“If I had waited, he could have killed Red!” Boone snapped back.

“Boone!” the courier suddenly piped up, “The lieutenant’s right. I had that under control.”

“What about a centurion choking you says ‘under control’?!” he turned on his partner.

Lieutenant Boyd just scoffed and stormed out of the interrogation room to get someone to clean up the bloody mess on the floor.

“He wasn’t choking me, he just had me by the neck! Look, he wasn’t like the other Legionaries we kill in the wasteland, he was valuable to us!” she argued.

“Well I’m sorry if I was just trying to look out for you!”

“Were you Boone?!” she took a step closer, “Were you?! Or were you just taking out your anger you have against the Legion?!”

Jeez, when Leone told him to protect Red, he neglected to inform him that she would be such a priss about it.

“Well?! Which is it?!” she demanded and Boone realized that he had been hesitating.

He had been genuinely worried when Silus lunged at her, but at the same time, he had been dying to shoot the centurion since they got there.

“It was a bit of both, alright!” he answered in her face, “But how could you expect me to stand in front of a Legionary like that and do nothing!”

“Well I seemed to do just fine!” Red retorted.

The sniper had a feeling that last comment meant more than she led on, so he stayed quiet to see if she would follow up on it. So he stood there expectantly, with the same harsh expression, waiting for an explanation. The courier lowered her voice and looked down at the floor, but kept her bitter face.

“You act like you’re the only one the Legion has ruined,” she spat, “Like just because you lose your wife that makes your suffering greater than everyone else’s…”

“…I don’t think that…” he snarled but Red just kept going. He wanted to pull the same move he had on Silus for bringing up Carla.

“…No girl should have to see her mother crucified,” her voice wavered, “Or her father killed in a lineup, or be taken as a slave alongside their younger brother.”

So Red had a little brother. Boone had no idea.

“When we tried to escape, they shot down Zach—my brother…and ripped my eye out as punishment,” her sharp tone descended into a weak mumble as all the memories came back, “They said I didn’t need two eyes to bear children.”

Boone was silent. He never knew Red had endured so much as a child and was yet so optimistic about life. So it must have been after they were captured that Leone found her. As for her eye, he always assumed she lost it in a fight or had it poked out by a cazador. Being held down as someone dug it out of your socket was a gruesome thought, even more so for a young girl. He wanted to say something along the lines of an apology, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“So don’t you dare say you couldn’t ‘hold back’ against Silus,” she looked back up to him, her fierce voice coming back in, “When I’m the one who knows what a Legion slave collar feels like.”

Just talking about it herself made her shutter and feel her neck. Boone tried again to say something reconciling or in the least bit sympathetic, but not a single syllable made it past his throat. Red didn’t wait for him to say anything, though, she just stormed past him, leaving him all alone with the deceased centurion.  
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Notes: Sorry it took so long to get another chapter up. I got a new laptop and it worked great for a day...but then it turned out to be defective, so I had to wait a long time for a new one. Now that I just got my new one just came in, I should be back and ready to write again! Still, I'm a little behind on all the writing, so updates may be a little slower.

Thank you for all the kudos everyone's been leaving, so maybe try a comment this time? I hope you all enjoyed Fallout 4's Far Harbor DLC! I know I did, except Steam stopped counting my achievements for some reason >.


	7. Hold Back

Red didn’t sleep much that night. She was still so worked up over the interrogation. That centurion was disgusting, talking about slave collars like that in front of her. The way he described it was scarily similar to how hers had felt. Tight, like they were going to snap right through her neck at any moment…or blow up. She wanted nothing more than to just start wailing on him, but she didn’t. Brains were always Red’s approach, and she wasn’t going to let her past compromise that. But Boone, he had let his past control him.

Slaughtering Legionaries like it was his birthright, he thought that every crimson soldier was the same. She didn’t mind ambushing Legion slavers with him, but Silus was far from their typical brute. He was important to them. At the very least he could have waited until after Silus was done talking to shoot. Boone had said it was also that he was trying to protect her. She appreciated the sentiment, and she would have been fine if he ran in to simply restrain the centurion. But it was his will to guard her that sent him into that cell, and his lust for Legion blood that led him to shoot.

When morning finally came, Red got herself up and took breakfast. She didn’t see Boone at all and even started to wonder if he was asked to leave for killing a prisoner. That might mean that they’d tell her to leave as well, and when the courier spotted Boyd approaching her, she thought for sure she was about to be booted. Instead, the lieutenant offered her a cigarette (which Red declined) and started telling her about some meeting.

“Thanks to your trigger happy friend, we won’t be able to learn anything else about the Legion’s presence here,” the lieutenant rolled her eyes, “However, Silus did mention ‘operations’ going on in this camp, and the Colonel’s in a tizzy about it. Wants all the high ranking officer’s to meet in the main hangar to talk about it, and he wants you there as well.”

“Why me?” the courier asked, “I’m not exactly ‘high ranking’ amongst the NCR.”

“Maybe not,” the lieutenant shrugged, “But you have gained a good rep with us, and you were the only one who could get Silus to talk, so they’ll want to know all the details of the interrogation.”

Red had never been to a stuffy military meeting before. Her courier spirit would sooner lead her to grow bored and follow a stray butterfly into the horizon. Nevertheless, she agreed to go, knowing that no matter how dull it was, it would ultimately help get the Legion out of Camp McCarran. While Red was dealing with the meeting, Boone was situating himself at the camp’s firing range. The other First Recon there all smiled and nodded at him and some of them even joined him in target practice.

Hitting the bullseye had become so easy for him, he could do it without even thinking, leaving his mind to wander. For one, he had totally misjudged Red. Well, okay, maybe not totally. She was still a bright-eyed, naïve courier who believed that everyone she met was intrinsically good, only pulling a weapon if her enemy gave her a reason. But he had always assumed that her childhood had always been a fairly easy one. It had to have been if she was that carefree. Apparently not. Courier Six had it about as bad as him when it came to the Legion. There was no exact way to compare the loss of a wife and unborn child to the loss of a home and family, but they were both still tragic. One couldn’t say they were sadder than the other.

He pulled the trigger on his sniper rifle again only to find he had used up all the ammo. Luckily, he was surrounded with all the equipment a sniper could need, so he grabbed an ammunition box and reloaded. Just as he repositioned his aim and focused his breath, a tap came on his shoulder. Being so in the zone and so lost in thought, Boone flinched violently and nearly dropped his gun. Turning, he saw it was Red, standing there with an innocent, concerned look to her.

“God damn it,” Boone let out a sigh of relief when he saw it was only her, “Don’t scare me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized earnestly, “I…just got back from speaking with the colonel…and the lieutenant, and the captain. They wanted to know about the centurion.”

Boone grimaced from behind his shades and averted his gaze, awkwardly itching at the back of his neck. Red noticed the subject was making things off between them, so she decided to just get the whole thing out of the way.

“Look, Boone, about what happened. Can we just agree not try and outdo each other when it comes to Legion tragedies?” she proposed.

“Hm?”

“Like can we both agree that we’ve both lost a lot to Caesar’s Legion so we shouldn’t act like the other doesn’t understand what we’ve been through,” she said, “We can still kick Legion butt, alright, but…if the other needs one of us to hold back, can we agree to respect that request?”

Boone tightened the hold on his rifle. Normally he’d spit out a harsh no and think about how he could never hold back after what they did to Carla. But of course, his situation with Red was different. She held back on Silus even as he mocked her openly, and he knew that she’d hold back again if the time called for it. If the courier could resist her own bloodlust, why couldn’t he?

“…Alright.” He finally gave in.

It was only fair after all.

“Right, now down to business,” Red spoke up, “the Colonel wants me to search the camp; ask around for clues. That sort of thing. I guess you could stay here and look around, but I’m going to go question some of the First Recon members.”

“Got it.” He nodded.

The courier left him and was gone for only an hour before coming back like she had some news to tell. That was fast.

“Some of the snipers said the light goes in the radio tower at night!” she exclaimed excitably before realizing how loud she had been. Lowering her voice, she murmured, “We’re gonna stake out there tonight, ok?”

Boone only grunted and nodded as he usually did. He had done his fair share of stake outs, sitting out at night as he glared through his scope. As soon as dusk faded into night, Red and her companion headed out to the tar mat. Many old world planes were left sitting out there in various states of corrosion. Some looked like they could be restored to working order with the proper care while others lie in shambles. They sat beneath a plane wing, staring intently at the entrance to the radio tower. It was dark as hell out there, the only closest light being the one just outside the tower door.

He hoped Red wouldn’t trip over anything later. For the longest time, nothing happened. Sometimes a guard would patrol by, but that was it. Boone figured whoever was sneaking into the tower at night must have been with the NCR. Otherwise they’d have to sneak past all that security, which wasn’t exactly possible, even for the most agile of spies. Turns out, Boone was right. Just as Red began to yawn and nod off, he spotted someone dart from the shadows and into the radio tower. All he could make out was a silhouette, but they were definitely wearing an NCR uniform.

“Pst. Red.” He nudged his partner.

“Huh?” she snapped out of her daze.

“I saw someone go in just now.”

Red blinked a few times to wake herself up, then looked out from under the wing of the plane. Sure enough, the tower light flickered on like a lighthouse. Signaling for him to follow, she snuck out of hiding and moved towards the door. When the two had slipped inside, all they could see was a narrow, spiral staircase that led up to the control room. Red readied her 12.7 and licked her lips eagerly. She had interrogated a prick just to get this info, so she hoped it was worth it.

“Stay here in case they try to make a run for it.” Red ordered under her breath.

With that, she began to slink up the stairs, and Boone watched her until she stopped just short of the control room, her back to the door. She waited for a few moments, then whirled around, kicked the door open, and stormed in gun at the ready. What followed next did not sound good. Boone heard Red yelp and then a loud banging noise like someone rammed her into some radio equipment.

“Red!” Boone shouted and charged up the stairs after her.

The sniper was too late reaching the top, the traitor already had a gun to his partner’s head. Boone recognized the man as one of the captains: Captain Curtis. If Red had been telling the truth before, this was the same captain who had been at the meeting. Since he had been there, the captain would have expected Red to go snooping around, so of course he’d be ready to ambush her. When Boone went for his gun, Curtis just gripped Red harder and pushed the gun’s barrel further into her head.

“Don’t try it!” he barked.

So Boone didn’t, but he wanted nothing more than to “try it”. Red was giving him the same look she had before with Silus: that “stand down” kind of look. Curtis was with the Legion, and normally Boone would have shot on sight, but this was what Red had talked about. This was a time where he needed to hold back and put his blind revenge on hold.

“You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?” the captain growled in Red’s ear.

Then he looked back up at Boone, and nodded his head to the side, telling him to get out of the way.

“All I want is a clear path out of here.” The captain mumbled as he walked past Boone, courier still in his grasp.

As he walked past, Red kept giving him the “just wait” look. She had something up her sleeve, but he couldn’t tell what. Whatever it was, he hoped she’d do it quickly because the captain was already through the tower door. He kept his awkward shuffle as he kept pushing Red along with him. Once he was at the edge of the light, threw the courier down and made a mad dash into the darkness. The tar mat was pitch black in the night, and the perfect cover. Boone hurried over to Red, who was just getting back on her feet.

“Don’t worry about me, snipe him!” she demanded.

“I can’t, it’s too dark!”

“Use the night vision!”

He suddenly remembered their incident in Boulder City. Glancing down at his weapon, he saw the knob on his scope and he turned it. Looking through it, the whole tar mat was clear as day…just a very green day. He saw Curtis dodging past old planes, and Boone took aim at him. A few seconds later, he fired, and his target fell the ground with a bullet in his brain.

“Ya got him?” Red asked urgently.

“Yeah.”

“Alright!” Red cheered, “Woohoo! Successfully put down a spy!”

She flashed a toothy grin over at Boone who wasn’t much for smiling even at times like this. The courier just held out a fist and said “don’t leave me hangin’.” Her companion cracked a small smile before giving her a hardy fist-bump. He was starting to think to himself what a great team they made. The two of them could really do some good in the Mojave. Their celebration was cut short as the sound of an explosion went off near the airport’s main hangar.

“What the fuck was that?” Red gasped, “You didn’t shoot one of the plane’s fusion engines by accident, did you?”

Boone didn’t like his aim being questioned, but he took a quick peek through his scope, only to find the pre-war aircrafts still intact.

“No,” he answered, then surveyed the rest of the camp through his scope and found smoke in the distance, “It’s coming from the monorail!”

Red suddenly remembered the monorail the NCR had from their camp to the New Vegas Strip. It was an important asset to them, and one of the only old world motives of transportation that still worked! Suddenly, all the pieces clicked in the courier’s head. Nobody would plant a spy in enemy territory for data alone. If they had someone undercover, why not use them a little more and have them get into the places you couldn’t get to yourself. In this case, it was the monorail. The Legion needed that down to cripple the NCR’s movement in the Strip, and a spy was the only hope of achieving that.

All Red’s joy left her as she tore off through for the station, all the while mentally scolding herself for being so stupid! Why hadn’t she looked for any damage done by the traitor first?! Her companion was close behind as always, and the two didn’t stop running until they reached the site of the explosion. When Courier Six saw the ravaged cars and rails, she dropped her knees, gasping for breath after the long sprint.

Burying her head in her hands, she groaned, “How could I have been so STUPID!?”

Looking up at the officers trying to clear the smoke and flames, she asked herself, “How did I not see this?! Ugh!”

“Damn Legion,” Boone growled, “Can’t blame yourself for this. You had no way of knowing.”

“I should have checked!” Red cried as she stood back up, “I-I should have done something more!”

“Red, you can’t blame yourself for everything,” her companion snapped, “This was the Legion’s fault before anything else.”

Colonel Hsu said the same the next day, but even still, Red couldn’t quite believe them.

“The loss of the monorail is quite an embarrassment on the behalf of the NCR,” Hsu admitted, “But nevertheless, you removed the Legion presence in Camp McCarran.”

“Couldn’t have done it without Boone,” Red gave a weak smile.

“Word about you two has spread enough through the Republic’s ranks that they’ve asked to see you both at the Dam for further assignments,” the Colonel told them.

“The Dam?” Red perked up, “As in Hoover Dam?”

“Aren’t any other Dams around.” The Colonel shrugged.

“Wow, I’ve never been!” her adventurous courier spirit was showing again.

“Then this is the perfect opportunity for you to go.” Colonel Hsu said.

When Boone left the camp with his partner, he was sure she’d make course for the Dam. Instead, she started heading in the direction of the Strip.

“What about the Dam?” Boone asked.

“Nah, not right now,” she shrugged dismissively, “I’ve got something to take care of in New Vegas first, and since we’re nearby, might as well.”

“Alright,” Boone sighed in an irritated tone, “What business do you need to take care of exactly?”

“I’ve met with most of the families on the Strip, except one, and there’s all sorts of mysterious rumors floating around about them,” Red explained with a hit of eagerness, “They sound awfully suspicious to me, so I’d like to have a look around in their casino. You know, see what’s what.”

“Which family is it?”

“The White Glove Society.”  
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Notes: Am I doing something wrong? Are comments not enabled on this story because...I'd kinda like some comments. I'm trying not to sound selfish but it's not very motivating to work this hard on a story and get no readable feedback on it...so...comments maybe?


	8. Fat Man Filler

Boone estimated that they’d arrive at the Strip in late afternoon, but then Red’s wanderlust just had to take over. Out of nowhere, she just trailed off the main road and started heading for a cluster of desert rocks. The sniper just watched her go, too irked to follow her. Was she seriously getting sidetracked now? When Red finally realized he wasn’t following, she looked behind her and signaled for him to follow. Boone just gave a heavy sigh and trudged along after her.

“There might be a cave up there, and I want to mark it on my Pip-Boy map!” she exclaimed excitably.

Nothing got the girl more restless than a landmark that she hadn’t discovered. If she saw a building, radio tower, or even a lake in the distance that she had never been to, she’d drop everything and make it her knew objective.

“Besides, we might find something cool.” She said hopefully.

Boone wanted to say “yeah like a nest of cazadors”, but he held his tongue. Even if it was a nest of those things, Red would still want to charge in and kill them all. After the courier had darted around the heaps of boulders and rocky terrain, she found a small opening that looked to be the entrance to a cave. Giving her companion an eager grin, she pointed furiously at it.

“It’s a cave.” He said in an unamused fashion.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” she chirped and headed in.

It was about as boring as he thought it’d be. Only nightstalkers and their young were inside, and the only thing worth taking was their eggs. While Boone finished cramming the last stalker egg into his pack, he noticed Red was nowhere to be seen. He looked around for her, but it was so dark, she could have been just on the other side of the cavern and he wouldn’t be able to see her.

“Holy shiiiiiit!” he heard Red’s yell echo from further into the cave.

“Red?” he called worriedly, dropped his pack, and ran towards her voice.

As he rounded through a tunnel, he saw Red’s Pip-Boy light glowing from within a small room. He darted in to see what was the matter, only to find Courier Six standing over a super mutant’s carcass with something heavy in her arms. 

“Check. This. OUT!” she squealed happily as she hoisted the Fat Man launcher onto her shoulder.

The weapon was so heavy she nearly tipped over! Judging by how decayed and gnawed the mutant’s body was, the nightstalkers must have killed him a while ago and left him and his launcher to rot.

“Oh, these things are so rare!” Red fawned over the Fat Man, “If only I had a mini nuke! Then I could cause some real damage!”

“Who knew that’d be in an old cave?” Boone remarked.

“See, I told you we might find something interesting.” Red sassed.

Boone rolled his eyes and sighed again. This was a very rare case and they would most likely never find loot like that in a cave like this ever again. However, he didn’t feel like arguing with Red, so he just reminded her they should keep moving for the Strip.

“On it!” she beamed as she began marching out of the cave.

“You’re taking that with us?” Boone asked as he followed behind.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she chuckled, “I doubt we’ll ever find another so easily.”

“It looks heavy.”

The Fat Man was almost the size of her! 

“Yeah, but Vegas isn’t too far now,” she reasoned, “I can make it.”

And so they continued their trek to the Strip, and it was dark by the time they arrived. When they made it through the gates, Red was dragging the launcher behind her, gasping for breath. Boone would have liked to arrive sooner, but at least they got to see the Strip all lit up. The fires blazed around the Gomorrah sign and light burst from the highest windows of the Lucky 38. He remembered the first time he was there, all the bright lights had confused him and made his head spin. That was when Carla came in, pointing out how obviously lost he was.

No, Boone thought, he wasn’t going to think on that now. It would only slow him down. Looking towards his current company, he saw Red looking down the dazzling street, a big smile painted on her face. The way the neon lights shone on her blue eye made him wish she had the other. For a second, he wondered what life looked like with only one eye. She turned every which way to take in the Vegas sights, so he imagined it was difficult to get the big picture of one location. When Red turned around to him, he realized he had been staring at her.

“C’mon!” she smiled and continued to lug the massive weapon towards the Lucky 38.

The first time Boone came to the Strip with her, she had been the center of attention all because she was the first to walk into Mr. House’s casino and come out alive. So you can imagine that she had even more people watching her as she went back into the casino, hauling a portable nuclear launcher with her. Victor the Securitron was at the tower’s elevator as always. If he could portray some sort of emotion, it would probably have been one of surprise.

“That’s a mighty fine gun you’ve got, Miss Red.” the robot commented in his Western accent.

“Thanks, Victor!” Red mustered enough strength to lift it on her shoulder and pose with it, “I found it in a cave near here!”

“Well ain’t that somethin’?” Victor chuckled, “Now where do you need ol’ Victor to take you today?”

“Just the suite.” Red told him.

Victor opened the elevator door and had the two follow him in. After doing all the cordial duties of any elevator steward, he went back down the casino floor to keep watch. Boone had only been in the casino’s presidential suite once before with Red and although it was as ritzy as 2075, he always felt slightly unnerved there. Mr. House was a shady character. Nobody had ever met him besides Red, and according to her, he just hid behind a giant computer monitor the whole time. He didn’t like the thought of such a mysterious man providing a roof over his head for nothing in return. Sure, Red always seemed relaxed in the suite, but she’d feel relaxed if a raider “invited” her in for some “tea.”

“Whew! Made it!” the courier sighed in relief as she propped the Fat Man against the wall, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna go to sleep. I’ll start my investigation in the morning.”

With that, she went into her master bedroom while Boone turned to find the guest room. He had barely taken a few steps down the hall when he heard his companion again.

“Good night!” she sang through a crack in her door.

Then she closed the door all the way. Boone waited for a few seconds to see if she’d peek through the door to say something else, but she didn’t.

“Night.” Boone muttered gruffly before going his own way.

However, when he reached the door to the guest room, he heard Courier Six again. This time, it was her moan, barely seeping through the old suite walls and reaching his ears. It sounded just like he thought it would back at Forlorn Hope: the kind of moan you’d hear from a girl her age, but higher pitched with a more innocent tone to it. Pairing up the sound with the image of her stretching in the camp’s morning light, he could finally complete the picture. She was probably straining her body, stretching out all the sore muscles she had earned from a long day of travel. Probably taking off her eye patch, revealing an eyeless socket or scarred eyelid. Most likely parting her lips just enough to let out that feminine sound.

Fuck. Shit. No. The sniper ran his hand down his face in an exhausted manner. All this travel with Red had made him too observant of her. Maybe it was good that they were in Vegas for a few days. Red could do her casino sleuthing on her own while he spent some time away from her for some piece of mind; maybe do some thinking. The poor guy thought he’d have time to himself. Nope. Never with Courier Six.  
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Notes: So, yeah, this is a shorter chapter and it's basically filler. Sorry about that, but I'd like to thank everyone who left kudos and a huge thank you to jinn lee for commenting and replying to my response. You made my day. This chapter was made better by my beta, EpicOfMe


	9. Cannibals in a Casino

It had been a restful night for Red. Too long it had been since she got to sleep in a real bed with real blankets and real pillows. Being on Mr. House’s good side had its benefits even if she didn’t fully trust the man. Red wasn’t sure if he trusted her either. After all, she let Benny escape and failed in retrieving the platinum chip. A story like that was bound to make a man suspicious. He probably thought Red had the chip and was just holding out on him. Either way, Red didn’t mind the mutual suspicion since they both benefited in the end. The courier got access to a private casino and suite, and Mr. House got to see some real human eye candy every once and a while.

Normally she’d head out on her mission with Boone by her side, but she figured he needed some extra sleep. The sniper often had difficulties sleeping, something Red noticed by how many times he volunteered to take first watch. She could never quite put her finger on what kept him up at night, but she always figured it had something to do with his memories in the First Recon. Courier Six had the occasional nightmare herself, usually about being shot by Benny of mutilated by the Legion, but it wasn’t as frequent as Boone.

Leaving him at the suite, Red continued down through the casino and out on to the streets of New Vegas. Even though the city was pretty at night, Red always thought it was nicer in the morning. The night brought out the worst in the residents: violence, debauchery, excessive gambling, drunkenness. But then in the morning, the veil was lifted and every casino-goer had to realize that the night was gone, and it was time to face the real world. That and the Strip was just less crowded in the mornings.

The biggest distinguishing feature of the Ultra Luxe was its giant fountain out front. It was a refreshing sight to see so much clean water pouring from one place in a wasteland where most of the water was contaminated. However, it was less refreshing to see a band of whores dancing around half naked in it. The securitrons were always kept busy keeping the fountain clear of people. Red also liked the steps leading up to the Ultra Luxe. They lit up in order from the bottom step to the top, leaving for a fun game to try and hit each stair just as it lit up.

When she had done her little game and made it to the top, she opened the casino doors to find a ritzy, plush environment full of poker tables. The walls were made of white marble and the speakers played orchestra music in contrast to the jazz that blared on the streets. The whole place was so much classier than the usual sketchy places around the Strip. Her blue eye gleamed with excitement as she just couldn’t wait to start exploring and over-stepping personal boundaries!

“Beg your pardon,” a formal voice broke through her daydream, “But could I trouble you to turn over your weapons?”

The courier’s expression dropped into annoyance as she remembered all the casino’s policies on weapons. The policy was simple: no weapons. Luckily, she had gotten used to the usual pat down, so she knew where to hide her hold out guns.

“Sure, here you go,” she said as she handed over her pocket knife and 12.7 pistol, but keeping two magnums hidden in her vault suit.

Giving up her things to the man, she got a better look at him. He was obviously part of the White Glove Society because of the tux he wore, but more notably, the ominous white masquerade mask he wore on his face. Red wondered if maybe the Society were really ghouls hiding behind masks…nah, that couldn’t be it. They’d have scratchy voices if that were the case.

“My deepest apologies for the slightest inconvenience,” the staff stressed the word “slightest”, “These will be returned to you upon your departure. We simply can’t have anyone waving their weapons around in here. It’s not the atmosphere we wish to cultivate.”

And what atmosphere are you going for? Creepy cult? Red rolled her eyes. Now that all the “formalities” were out of the way, she was free to explore the fancy casino, and the first thing to catch her eye was the bar in the center. It was circular, with a giant white fern at the center, spreading over the room like a big, ivory palm tree. According the books she had read, New Vegas used to have many palm trees before the bombs. The courier wondered if they all looked like that or if this one was even real. Probably not. It looked too theatrical for it to be a biological lifeform. Nonetheless, it drew the girl in towards the bar.

Leaning onto the cool, marble bar, she continued to marvel at the artwork, until her daydreams were interrupted once again.

“Excuse me, stranger,” said a man beside her at the bar, “But I’m looking for someone. You ain’t seen a man with dark brown hair and a white hat lately have you?”

She looked over to the barstool next to her and—wow! That was some hat that guy had! It was your average black cowboy hat but times five! The man looked like an old grizzly cowboy and would probably fit the Atomic Wrangler’s atmosphere rather than the Ultra Luxe.

“No, can’t say I have.” Red shook her head.

“Damn,” the old man sighed, “Ain’t nobody got one piece of news about me boy. Not one lousy speck of information.”

“This man is your son?” Red was suddenly more interested, “He’s missing?”

“That’s right,” he nodded sadly, “I got every Brahmin accounted for across a dozen ranches, but I’m here for an hour and my own flesh and blood just up and disappears.”

“A rancher, huh?” Red mused, “Like Mr. Gunderson?”

The man’s sorrowful expression faded for a moment as he let out a chuckle.

“Missy, I am Mr. Gunderson.” He revealed.

“No way!” Red laughed, “The big time rancher who basically owns almost every Brahmin in the Mojave?”

“Well now, I wouldn’t say I own that many,” he continued to chuckle, “You flatter me, though.”

Red plopped down next to the man with a big grin on her face. Not only was she on to new mission, but she also got to meet an important man of the wastes!

“It’s an honor to finally meet you,” she smiled, “Now, uh, you mentioned a lost boy?”

“Yep…” the rancher’s worried look came back, “My boy, Ted. I left him but a minute while I talked things over with the White Glove folks. He was never one to stay tied down to one spot, though. Gets that from his mother.”

So he was a wanderer. Red liked him already.

“Most of my staff are out looking for him now,” Mr. Gunderson went on, “I’d be out myself, but I keep hoping he’ll show up back here. Of course, if he does that I’ll whup him till his skinny ass turns into leather for putting me through all this! That don’t mean I wouldn’t be grateful.”

Red giggled at the thought, thinking of her younger brother. He was a troublemaker himself and Red and her parents were often put through a lot of worry on his behalf. In the end, he’d always come back home in one piece, but end up getting a scolding from their dad.

“I’ll help you find your son.” Red offered.

“Alright then,” he shrugged, “I suppose I’m willing to hire anyone with a pair of legs at this point. There’d be a lot of money in it for you if you can get him back to me safe.”

The courier didn’t much care about the reward. It was always the journey she liked best; what she’d get to see or get to experience. She also just wanted to see a son reunited with his father, even if it was just a bad case of wanderlust. Either way, Red had herself a job, and it involved asking around the casino which was what she had intended to do in the first place.

Boone woke up an hour after Red and he had surprisingly slept well that night. Figuring she’d come back to the 38 eventually, he situated himself in the kitchen to have a breakfast of Sugarbombs. They were usually too sweet for him, but gristly road mean was all he had eaten lately, so the sugar was a nice change of pace. The suite was so quiet and he found himself taking in the silence, propping his feet up on the kitchen table, and enjoying the still air.

“Boone, holy FUCK!” Red shouted as she kicked open the kitchen door.

The sniper flinched violently, sending Sugarbombs across the table and down his windpipe, leaving him hacking up half-chewed cereal. When he finished gagging, he looked up at his companion with an ominous glare. She returned it with a meager “oops” and a stifled laugh.

“What?” Boone growled.

What could be so important that she would startle him so badly and nearly make him die via breakfast cereal?

“I, uh…found a society of cannibals.” She explained awkwardly.

Well he certainly didn’t expect that to come out of her mouth. Wasn’t she going to inspect a luxury casino? Unless she got sidetracked by another cave. Caves seemed like plausible places for cannibals to hide.

“…What?” Boone repeated.

“Yeah, turns out the White Glove Society are a bunch of cannibals!” she chirped, “Well, not all of them, but some of them!”

“You didn’t take any Jet on your back, did you?” he asked skeptically.

“I did not!” she answered defensively.

Red was far too innocent for anything like chems.

“Why don’t you…” Boone paused, still in disbelief of her crazy idea, “…Tell me what happened?”

“Ok!” she got all excited to tell the story, and slid into the chair next to him, “So I get there and there’s this guy looking for his son, and it turns out, he’s Mr. Gunderson!”

“That one rancher?”

“The big rancher!” she echoed, “And he said he’d pay anyone who was able to find his son who apparently has gone missing within the Ultra Luxe. I did some asking around, and it only took one conversation with the hostess at the Gourmand to know. They’re cannibals!”

Boone went over her tale, trying to pick out what hint gave away that they were a man-eating cult. To him, it just sounded like Red’s adventurous imagination getting out of hand again.

“That’s ridiculous,” he spat, “How do know that?”

“Because the hostess kept going on and on about how the White Glove Society was no longer affiliated with cannibalism,” she continued, “She said that while they used to, they had ‘turned over a new leaf’. She was such a bad liar! Then I talked to the hotel steward, Mortimer, and he said Gunderson’s kid wasn’t the only person to go missing. Some bride-to-be disappeared a few days ago, too! That can’t be a coincidence! The Society must be snatching people up and eating them!”

Ok, well there was some proof Boone could buy into. It wasn’t solid proof and he was by no means jumping to conclusions like Red was, but it did raise some suspicions.

“They hired a detective to look in the matter, and Mortimer says he’s stills staying in the hotel, so I’m going to have a chat with him,” Red finished, “And I want you coming with me.”

“Alright.” he grunted.

Although, he promised himself he wouldn’t accuse the Ultra Luxe of anything until he saw for himself. Boone had never been in the place himself, but he heard about their restaurant on the radio quite a bit. There was always some controversy about whether or not the food was worth the high price. Before entering, the courier stopped him and pointed to his First Recon beret.

“You’ll have to take that off.” She ordered.

“No.” he replied bluntly.

He wouldn’t care too much if someone tried to take his sunglasses or, hell, even his shirt. But when someone went for the beret, it was personal. It was a symbol of his rank, where he stood in the mess or Vegas politics, and more importantly: his pride. Also it covered his shaved head.

“Look, if the White Glove Society sees anyone from the NCR sniffing around, they’ll panic and do something drastic.” Red explained.

“We don’t even know if they’re behind it,” Boone retorted, “And what does it matter if they panic?”

Red crossed her arms with an annoyed expression, “People may answer differently to my questions if I have NCR with me. I just don’t want anything that will affect this case.”

Boone scowled and grumbled incoherent complaints under his breath. After a few seconds of fuming, he tore the hat off his head and shoved it into his pocket.

“There we go.” Red smiled and headed through the doors.

Her partner was about as amazed at the glamourous interior as she was, but he was better at hiding his excitement. However, he was less than happy to have all his rifle confiscated. It felt like Boulder City all over again, and he could only hope the Society wouldn’t break his gun like Red had. Speaking of Courier Six, she was dragging him into more trouble by lying about his identity.

“I see you’ve brought a guest this time, Miss,” the masked steward pointed out, “Will you two be spending the night here?”

“Oh, no. He’s my bodyguard,” she lied smoothly, “We’re just here on the missing persons case.”

“Ah, yes,” the steward nodded, “Good luck to you both.”

After the steward left to store their weapons, Boone shot his companion a confused look.

“What?” she shrugged, “You look like a merc without your beret.”  
\-------  
Notes: Thank you so much to Lola who commented very very recently! It got me back to writing and now I've uploaded a chapter for you all. Thank you, Lola, this chapter's for you!


	10. So Young, So Shy

“I feel like I should say a pun.” Red spoke as she stared down at the detective’s dead body.

The inspector’s hotel room door had creaked open at the slightest knock, revealing the body, sprawled out on the foot of the bed amongst clear signs of struggle.

“Y’know, like ‘case closed’ or…or ‘time’s up, Sherlock’.” She joked but stopped when she met Boone’s ominous gaze.

“You’re right, a man has died. This isn’t funny.” She stiffened up.

Taking the investigation seriously, she bent down over the detective to gather what evidence she could. She undid his shirt collar to find bruising and fingernail marks all around his neck.

“Looks like he was strangled,” Red observed, “So whoever killed him had to have been abiding by hotel rules.”

The courier continued to set aside any personal boundaries and started to pat the carcass down, feeling just about everywhere for something notable. Boone awkwardly cleared his throat as Red reached into the detective’s pants…and pulled out a gun. Oh thank God, he thought this was going somewhere else. Red turned the 10 mm over in her hands, then removed the ammo.

“He didn’t use a single bullet,” she announced, “So he was jumped; no chance to defend himself. The only person who could have ambushed him is someone with a key.”

Glancing up from the deceased, Red’s blue eye dug into Boone. He knew she had proven her point, and she was just waiting for him to admit she was right. The only people who had access to the hotel keys were the White Glove Society themselves.

“It doesn’t prove they’re cannibals.” He grumbles.

“But it does prove they’re guilty.” Red smirked triumphantly.

Groping around the dead body a little more, Red found a handwritten note addressed to the investigator. Skimming it over with her one eye, she quickly closed the note and shoved it into her pocket.

“He had a guy on the inside. The detective was supposed to meet him this morning.” She said.

“Where?” Boone asked.

“Uh…” Red bit her lip and hesitated.

Boone would have pried further, but their conversation was cut short as the door swung open and two masked staff came barging in armed with dress canes. Dress canes may not seem the most menacing of weapons, but when you’re stripped of all your guns at the door and left with nothing, just about anything capable of whacking you can become life-threatening. The first one took a swing at Boone’s head, only for the sniper to duck and respond with a punch to the face. As the enemy staggered back, a gunshot went off, and Boone saw that Red had pulled a magnum and killed the other assassin.

Thankful that she had somehow held onto a gun of some sort, he seized the other Society member and held him still while Red took aim. He was down just as quickly as his friend, adding two more dead bodies to the room. The two stopped to catch their breath for a few seconds, then snapped right back into action.

“Someone would have heard that.” Red hissed.

So they both bolted from the room and made it to the hotel lobby, their new goal being to act as natural as possible. As they leaned against the walls like they totally hadn’t just murdered hotel staff, Boone looked for Red’s revolver. Just like that, it was gone and just as hidden as it was before. He knew the Ultra Luxe was thorough with their searches, and it was no easy feat to sneak a gun past them.

“Where were you hiding that?” he whispered.

Her lips curved into a devilish smile as she whispered back, “You really wanna know?”

Boone shifted uncomfortably and looked away from his partner, letting her know that his answer was “no thank you.” Still, she liked seeing him squirm. It wasn’t often that Boone showed emotion, and getting a bit of a rise out of him was always amusing.  
“Just tell me where we’re meeting this informant.” Boone growled.

Red' giggling ceased and her expression turned to dread. She bit her lip awkwardly and pulled out the note again, her eye scanning the last few words.

"The, uh...bath house. The sauna room to be exact." She mumbled.

Boone wasn't sure why that changed anything. It was their next objective, and usually the courier would bound off to the next step with excitement. But now she just seemed reluctant to carry on in their case.

"We'll be about twenty minutes late for the meeting by now," she glanced at her Pip-Boy, "He's probably already left."

But one dead set stare from her companion told her that he wasn't buying it.

"I mean...we don't need the informant." She tried to reason with him.

Like hell they did, and Red knew it. This man was their only guy on the inside and their only hope to finding out what happened to Gunderson's son. So why was Red being so evasive? Boone didn't even need to say anything back, he just kept his deadpan stare on the courier, leaving her to basically talk to herself.

"Okay, we kinda do..." She admitted then again tried to wriggle away, "But can't you just go in and meet him for me?"

More emotionless staring.

"Yeah, you're pretty bad at talking," Red groaned, "At least let me go in there by myself?"

This time her partner spoke up, "I'm supposed to be your bodyguard. It'd cause suspicion if I didn't go everywhere with you."

At that, Red made an uncomfortable whining noise and rubbed the back of her neck. She just looked so...what was the word Boone was looking for? He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Dropping her head submissively and wrapping her arms around herself, she told him to meet her at the bath house as soon as possible. She also said to look the part of a bather, since they wouldn't be let in fully clothed. Not to mention it would just scream "I'm here to pass on illegal information, not enjoy the sauna."

So they met back up in the bath's antichamber, Boone being the first one there. All he did was take off his sunglasses and shirt, refusing to remove anything else. He wondered if Red would find it strange seeing him without his sunglasses on, but it turned out he didn't need to worry about that. When Red padded into the tiled room with her bare feet, her head was down and her blue eye glued to the floor. She refused to look up at him, but also made sure he wouldn't look at her.

"Seriously, don't look." She begged as she entered the antichamber.

All he could see from the small glance he got was that she had a very slender frame. Not an appealing sort of slender, though, there weren't enough curves for that. She was bonier than anything else, and she looked especially taunt with how nervously stiff she was. Luckily, she wore underwear, but no bra. Not like she needed one. It was odd to see Red so uncomfortable during a mission, especially one with such interesting locale. He thought for sure with her personality she'd be ecstatic to strip down to her undergarments and flop into a pool full of natural spring water. Instead she was acting like a fish out of water. Then Boone thought of the word he was looking for: self-conscious.

Red was such a brave girl, he thought for sure she wouldn't give two fucks about how her body looked. He had seen her pick fights with wild Bighorners like it was a fun game, and here she was fearing a public bath house!

"Alright, let's just get this over with." Red mumbled and awkwardly waddled into the main room.

The courier had ever been in the Ultra Luxe's bath house before, but Red knew that by pre-war standards, it would actually be called a "pool." From her hunched position, she could see there weren't too many people around. Good, less witnesses that way, and less people to stare at her.

Making sure not to look directly at her, Boone asked, "Where exactly are we meeting this guy?"

"The sauna, apparently." She replied.

So she began her little waddle over to the door on the side, just hoping the informant had already left. Red wasn't so sure she could deal with anyone else seeing her like this. When she opened the sauna door, a sudden steamy heat air flowed over her face. For a second, she shut her eye and allowed herself to enjoy it before remembering why she came in the first place. Opening her eye again, she found a black man sitting at the end of the room, wearing the formal White Glove tux. Red almost felt sorry for him, that he had to be sitting in a hot steam room wearing a full tuxedo! But as soon as his eyes fell on her, she only wished she had a fancy suit of her own.

"Who are you?" The man asked suspiciously.

"Uh...I'm..." Red anxiously fumbled with her words, "I'm Red. Are you the detective's informant?"

"Ah shit!" The man hissed as he stood up, believing his cover had been blown.

"W-wait!" Red put out her hands to stop him, "I'm with the detective!"

He froze and gave the girl a once-over, making her squirm and turn red.

"Prove it." He grunted.

Turning to her partner, but keeping her eyes on the floor, she held out a hand, and he gave her the note from his pocket. When she gave it to the informant, he scanned it up and down before casting another glance back at the courier.

"Alright. So where is the detective? Why did he send you?" He asked.

"He's dead," she admitted, "But I'm looking into the same case that he was. If you help me, I can pick up where he left off."

"Oh my God..." The informant mumbled, "They knew. They knew he was talking to someone on the inside."

As his face turned to terror, Red waddled a few steps closer and attempted to calm him down, although it was hard with her being so tense as well.

"It's ok! The note was still on the detective's body! The White Glove Society didn't find it, so they don't know it's you specifically!" She explained hurriedly.

The informant took a few deep breaths from the heavy sauna air as he tried to relax. It must have been hard not to hyperventalate just from wearing all those clothes.

"Why don't you tell me your name?" Red offered.

"...Ch-Chauncey." he stuttered back.

Now that both the informant and the courier were shaken up, Boone felt like the only calm one in the room.

"Who is it you're afraid of?" Red began the interrogation.

"Mortimer. If he realizes it was me the investigator was supposed to meet, he'll have me killed." Chauncey explained shakily.

"So Mortimer's the one behind it," she murmured to herself, "Wouldn't have guessed that."

Mortimer had seemed so cool and collected, and as always, Red quickly assumed he was a nice guy. She would have sooner believed it was the jumpy Gourmand hostess. Then again, murderers were often the most content about their work.

"Yes," Chauncey nodded, "The White Glove Society strictly forbids eating humans...but we weren't always the White Glove Society. Mortimer and some of the others have, well, regressed to the old ways."

If Courier Six wasn't so uncomfortable about the current scenario, she would have surely cried "Eureka" or something of the nature, then flashed an "I told you so" look at Boone. But for now, her blue eye just lit up in interest as she appeared more invested in what the informant had to say.

"They've been taking people over the last few months, but only from Freeside or secluded places," Chauncey went on, "Where they wouldn't be missed. It wasn't enough and lately they've gone for tourists on The Strip, even in the hotel."

"So...that bride. She..." Red ventured.

Chauncey nodded sadly, "That's the hazard of a cannibal becoming a gourmet—it's hard to please a refined palate. I...I distracted the girl's fiance while they took her. But I had to! They could see I was having doubts and I had to prove myself! I'm not proud of it, though..."

So this man had a hand in murdering someone's love? Just thinking about it made Boone grit his teeth. If it were him, he would have gotten the info he needed from Chauncey, then left him on his own to either escape the Society or be caught. But with the courier, she was willing to give everyone 77 second chances 77 times over.

"It's ok, you did what you had to," Red gave a weak smile, "What matters now is that you're redeeming yourself..."

Boone did a mental eyeball roll. All this talk of "redemption" achieved so easily was making him sick. Chauncey let an innocent woman get chopped to bits, and now Red was making him think he could make it up by simply helping her? The girl was too nice for her own good.

"...Why don't you tell me what you can about the White Glove Society? Anything you left out?" Red asked.

"Some of us started meeting privately a while back, talking about how we'd lost our identity," Chauncey explained, "I started attending because I thought it was about changing our politics. Then they started talking about the old ways and there was no way out! They'd kill me for the things I'd heard them say!"

Red was starting to look sorry for the guy, and Boone couldn't help but feel she was being played for a sap. She took a seat on one of the sauna benches and let out a huff.

"I'm sorry, Chauncey, that sounds like a rough spot to be in."

"Yeah, it is..." The White Glove member sighed as he took a seat next to her.

The courier made sure to scootch away from him a bit though, and continue hugging her sides nervously.

"Can you tell me anything about Gunderson's son, Ted?" Red asked carefully.

"He's alive as far as I know," Chauncey shrugged, "They're trying to keep him fresh because Mortimer has some special plans in mind for him."

Despite the room's warm temperature, Red felt a chill go down her spine at mention of "special plans". What could be more "special" than just eating him?!

"The White Glove Society has a banquet every night at 7 in our private section," the informant went on, "Mortimer wants to reintroduce people into our cuisine at tomorrow's banquet, but since eating people is a crime we punish by death, he's going to do it secret."

Red didn't know which was worse. A group being rich enough to have a banquet every night or a group having scheduled executions for anyone who broke their code. The Society was far more cult-y than she imagined!

"Once everyone's eaten, he'll tell them, and with no way to punish everyone, Mortimer believes they'll be open to the idea of eating humans as a delicacy." He finished.

"Wow," the courier breathed, "He's got it all planned out, huh? Can you tell me where they're keeping Ted?"

"I...don't know exactly. I wasn't in on it. I think some of them have stopped trusting me," he admitted anxiously, "But I'll bet they're keeping him in the Gourmand kitchens. Our chef, Philippe, has an obsession with fresh ingredients."

"Got it, so I just need to get to the kitchen." Red was already planning out her next objective.

"Well, it's in the members only section," Chauncey said, "And they've got all the entrances guarded at all times. They'll want to see some ID with proof that you're part of the White Glove Society, but in your case, you'd just be an honorary member."

"So how do I become an honorary member."

"You'll need someone to sponsor you, but it'll need to be someone of high status. Lower White Gloves like me can't do that sort of thing," he told her, "You'll need to get on an elite's good side, and you only have one day!"

"Yeesh," Red cringed at the difficult task, yet was never one to turn down a challenge, "Who's a good candidate?"

Chauncey put a finger to his chin as he thought for a few moments, then said, "Boden. He's practically Mortimer's right hand man, but he's..."

His voiced died out as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head. Red gave him a "go on" look, just wanting this whole situation to be done with. The faster she could put her clothes back on the better.

"...Well, he's got a soft spot for...women like you." Chauncey mumbled stiffly.

"What do you mean, 'women like me'?" She asked in her usual naïve manner.

"Y-you know, the..." Now Chauncey was starting to look just as nervous as Red, "...the younger looking ones with the bright-eyed look to them."

He had definitely hit the nail on the head there. Red was only twenty years old, and she always walked around with a wondrous, dreamy look in her eye. However, Boone found it unnerving that there were men out there with a fetish that specific.

"Anyways, anyways," Chauncey tried to get back on topic, "There's a gala tonight being held in the Gourmand. You need to be on the guest list, but I can take care of that. If you get Boden's attention, do a bit of talking with him, he might give you an honorary membership."

"Now hold on—" Boone started to speak up but Red cut him off.

"Alright, if that's what it takes," she nodded

Normally she’d accept a task like this with an air of excitement. It was a whole new way to talk a person down, and a whole new form of espionage she had never tried. But given how uncomfortable she was at the present time, the most enthusiasm she could show was a nod.

“I’ll point Boden out to you tonight, but you better start getting ready. The gala is in less than three hours. Make sure you both dress the part, too.”

Red nodded again, this time a spark of adventure flashing across her eye. To her, it’d be just like in those pre-war spy movies! The courier stood up to leave, telling she’d be seeing Chauncey later that night, but he stopped her before she exited the sauna.

“Uh…Red,” he struggled to remember her name, “Thank you. For what you’re doing that is. I don’t think anyone else here would be willing to risk their neck like this.”

Courier Six just gave the man a back glance, her blue eye still focused on the ground, but her lips now curled into a slight smile.

“I’m Courier Six,” she shrugged, “That’s in the job description.”

\--------------

Notes: Thank you so much to Jules, who really left some super sweet and informative comments! I love getting stuff like that. It makes my day, and keep the inspiration flowing! I know the past two chapters have been slow, but the next one will be a doozey, I promise!


	11. The Gun and the Garter

The presidential suite of the Lucky 38 had wardrobes all over the master bedroom and guest rooms, but Red never thought to look inside them before. But, being desperate for formal attire, she ripped open the biggest one in her room to find a row of clean, pre-war dresses hanging there like the bombs never happened.

“Wow…” she breathed as she felt the soft fabrics.

Boone, however, was not so impressed. He was busy trying to fathom why Red would so easily go along with Chauncey’s 007 style plan!

“Red, you’re not seriously going through with this, are you?” he asked harshly.

“Sure, why not?” she answered as she pulled out a black maxi dress, “If it’s our only way in, then we have to do it. Besides, it sounds like a fun mission.”

Of course. If Red had never done it, she instantly wanted to try it. Blast religious ghouls into space? Sure! Flirt with a cannibal for a club membership? On it!

“Have you ever even seduced someone before?” Boone asked, just feeling the regret for saying something so awkward wash over him.

The courier was about to reach for another outfit when she froze at the question. It caught her off guard for a moment, but only a moment.

“Well…I…” she mumbled, “No.”

He didn’t think so. If she had been that tense in the bath house, there was no way she could pull seduction off.

“But still,” she perked up, “I think I could do it. After all, I’ve been getting pretty good at convincing people of all sorts of stuff! Seducing is just that but a little sexier, right?”

It wasn’t like Boone would know. He had a wife, but he was never a diehard romantic. Everything was always straight forward with him.

“Do you think I should practice beforehand?” Red thought aloud, “Could I try it on you?”

“No. No,” her companion reacted quickly, “Look—I mean—it’s just—”

Red’s eye narrowed in suspicion as he floundered with his words. She couldn’t believe she made him so flustered. It was the kind of reaction she had always hoped to get out of Leone.

“Chauncey’s still with the White Glove Society.” Boone stated firmly, finally getting a bearing on his speech.

“So?”

“How do we know he won’t turn on us?”

Red just rolled her eyes like it was simple, “Because, he told us he’s not proud of what he’s done. He doesn’t want to be part of the Society anymore.”

“You’re just gonna take his word on it?” Boone looked at her like she was crazy.

Placing her index finger on her chin and staring up into space, she said, “He had this sort of…sincerity about him. Chauncey doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’d lie.”

“You’ve known him for less than a day.” Her partner retorted bluntly.

“You knew me for a less than a day,” Red went back to her closet of dresses, “And you joined me.”

Boone sighed, finally giving up on the whole thing. The girl had her mind set and by then, she had already laid all the dresses out on her bed, carefully studying each one. She had never worn one before, so she had no idea where to start! As her hand hovered over a few, Boone stepped in.

“The blue one. Goes with your eyes—er—eye.”

Glancing up at him, she was shocked that he’d know even a single thing about women’s fashion! Then again, she remembered the people of Novac talking about how much Carla loved the cosmopolitan life of the Strip. His wife probably had plenty of chances to wear all kinds of spiffy New Vegas fashions for him. She could only imagine how beautiful Carla looked. Curvy, filling out every part of the dress perfectly as her husband lowered his sunglasses for a better view. Looking at the one Boone had pointed out, she pictured this imaginary Carla she made up wearing it, but when Red pictured herself in it, she faltered.

“It…doesn’t have sleeves.” She pointed out.

Before he could ask or even suggest another one, Red grabbed a knee-length white one with short sleeves. It was classy, but by no means screamed seduction which was what she should have been going for. If Boone had to pick an outfit for her, he’d have chosen the blue one, but maybe with a keyhole in the back. More skin to show off to Boden; the perfect “insert hand here” opportunity.

“This’ll do.” She said as she looked it over.

Since he apparently couldn’t convince her of anything, Boone gave up and left. He stood in the hallway, waiting for the girl to emerge in her dress. When she finally came out in her dress and cream flats. He couldn’t deny, she looked pretty damn good in it…maybe a little better if it didn’t have sleeves…a few inches off the bottom…a keyhole in the back. She walked right by him like he wasn’t even there, and headed straight for the elevator.

“Hey,” his voice stopped her, “You’re going without me?”

The courier turned to him, blinked a few times in surprise, and gave a small smile.

“You…want to come with me?” she asked hopefully.

Red didn’t think he’d want anything to do with a stuck up gala.

“I can’t let you go on your own. What if something happens?” he suggested, “After all, everyone there thinks I’m your bodyguard.”

Boone didn’t want to answer to Leone if Red ended up getting molested or possibly eaten by a carnivorous Casanova.

“Oh yeah!” she grinned, “That makes since. Alright, but you’ll need to wear something more formal than that.”

He frowned, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

She gave him an unamused expression as she looked over his khaki pants and white t-shirt. Bodyguard or not, they wouldn’t let him in without proper attire.

“I’ll check the wardrobes for a tux.” She said simply as she headed for the guest room.

A tuxedo? Oh, great. He was already starting to regret this whole evening. First, he stupidly asked Red directly about her seduction techniques, now he was being forced to wear a bowtie and jacket. His companion came back moments later with the ensemble in hand, and he was sent back to his room to put it on. Once Boone had fit his bulky body into the tux and once Red had done some staring that lasted too long for his liking, they headed out for the night’s mission to begin. The courier did her little step game up to the Ultra Luxe, then walked through the doors to find the same security measures. It looked like galas were no exception to the “no fire arms” rule.

“Excuse me, but would you mind handing over your weapons to me?” the masked White Glove member asked, “We do not wish to cultivate a dangerous environment.”

The two both rolled their eyes and started unloading their gear when the member whispered, “Psst, it’s me: Chauncey. Follow me. Just play along.”

Then he straightened up and said loudly, “Come with me, I’ll show you where we’ll be storing your weapons.”

Chauncey led them past the main gambling hall, bringing them to an obscure maintenance closet at the end of a corridor. The place was stuffy and dusty, but it was away from the prying eyes of the upper class cannibals. As soon as he shut the door, Chauncey lifted his mask and let out a sigh of relief like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Alright, here’s the plan,” he lectured, “You two can only stay at the gala for about 45 minutes.”

“Wait, why? Didn’t you put us on the guest list?” Red interrupted.

“I did, but they’ll be going through the list throughout the night, and there’s a good chance they’ll figure out your names aren’t supposed to be on there,” he explained, “I can tell them it was a mistake, but either way, they’ll make you leave. So you have to get the membership from Boden before they figure you out.”

Great, Red thought, a time limit. And here she thought she’d get to enjoy the night. She was even hoping of persuading Boone to dance with her. Meanwhile, her partner was just fine with the time constraint. It meant less time having to endure some hoity-toity party and watch as Red talked up some stranger. Speaking of which, they didn’t know much about Boden to begin with.

“What does this Boden look like?” Boone asked.

Chauncey looked a little surprised to see the sniper piping up. Boone hadn’t spoken a word to them since they met.

“He…errm…” Chauncey scratched his head trying to think of a description, “He’s an older gentleman. Tall…oh, and he has a small scar on his chin. Right about here.”

He poked at a spot on his chin, and Red nodded, “Got it, I’ll be on the look out.”

The courier and her companion made a start for the door, but their informant quickly stopped them.

“Whoa there, don’t get too ahead of yourselves,” he chuckled nervously, “Let’s make sure you don’t have any weapons on you first.”

Red asked, “Can’t you let us keep them?”

“If they catch you in the gala with guns, it’s all over. You’ll be immediately suspected, and there won’t be any chance of getting you in to save Gunderson’s son.” Chauncey shook his head but then gave the girl a sly look, “However, I do have one way you could sneak in a pistol. As for your merc, well he’s on his own. But here.”

Reaching into his pocket, Chauncey pulled out the tiniest snubnose pistol she had ever seen along with a very lacey piece of white elastic which looked too sensual for comfort. The courier gulped and felt her face heat up, knowing where this scenario was going. She had seen the accessory in old pre-war women’s magazines.

“What good’s some string gonna do?” Boone wondered obliviously as he unloaded his rifle.

“A lot of women on the Strip do this sort of thing to conceal weapons. They just strap it around the top of their thigh and security is none the wiser.” Chauncey talked like it was no big deal.

“I have to put that on?” Red squeaked in disbelief.

“No, it’s too hard to get on yourself. Have your bodyguard help you, then meet me at the Gourmand’s bar.”

Like he knew the sexual tension would start building, Chauncey quickly exited the cramped closet, leaving Red and Boone with nothing but a pistol and a garter. It sounded like the start of a bad pre-war porno. Even Courier Six’s companion was starting to feel uncomfortable.

After a suspenseful pause, he held out his hand to take the gun, “Here.”

Red shot him that same anxious expression she wore in the bath house. The one that screamed “I’m uncomfortable. Don’t look at me.” Nevertheless, Boone had to touch her and in a very arousing spot at that. After a rigid nod from his partner, she handed him the gun and strap. Boone tried to push down any filthy thoughts that might arise and reached for her thigh. For a second, Red thought to herself that maybe it wasn’t so bad. His hands were warm and calloused; pleasant to the touch. If she had known that was how they felt, she would have found other ways to touch them. But then his hands went further, disappearing under her dress, and reaching some uncharted territory. Red let out a sharp gasp as a hot wave of sweat rushed through her.

“Sorry.” Boone grumbled.

“It’s fine. Just…k-keep going.”

If she had obeyed her instincts, she’d be lurching away and smacking Boone on his big, shaved head! But she held still as her “bodyguard” ventured further until his fingers skimmed her underwear. If Boone had obeyed his instincts, he would have wrapped his calloused both hands around her thigh and squeezed for a satisfactory moan. Thankfully he stopped there, but he took his sweet time trying to buckle the thing. His fingers fumbled around beneath her, the buckle clinking about as he tried to fit the gun under the lacey elastic. Red was hoping this could be done quickly, but Boone was taking too long.

“What are you doing?” she hissed through grit teeth.

Boone let out a sigh of irritation. He’d like to see her go under a girl’s dress and try to buckle a tiny garter around a tiny gun. Especially if that girl was one she’d had the occasional attraction to every now and then. He thought of a snide comment to shoot back, but given how inappropriate it was, he tried to keep it quiet.

“Trying not to get lost.” He mumbled under his breath.

Boone didn’t think she heard it, but the courier’s sharp ears caught every syllable. This time, she listened to her instincts and gave the sniper a sharp fist to the top of his head.

“Ow!” he exclaimed a he flinched back, the garter and pistol falling to the floor.

He was about to chew her out for making him screw up, but when he saw just how flushed her face had become, he just went back to his job.

“Just hurry up.” She growled.

“Yes, boss.” He replied mockingly as he buckled the garter around her with a sudden tug.

Red whimpered at the abrupt pain in her thigh. The way he called her “boss” also had her thinking all sorts of filthy thoughts. This night was not off to the start she wanted. When her companion stood back up, she headed for the door, her head down and face steaming.

“Let us never speak of this ever again.” She mumbled.

Boone was worried the courier would spend the rest of the gala moping with a flushed face, but he was relieved to see her perk up at the sight of the Gourmand. All the tables were filled with expensive foods and had been pushed to the sides to make way for dancing. Everyone was dressed to nines in some of the trendiest Vegas fashions. Courier Six’s eyes lit up at the sight, and looked back at her companion in excitement.

Luckily, they were on the list as Chauncey said, and they were allowed in with no fuss. Then came the task of finding Mortimer’s lackey, which wouldn’t be easy in a crowded ballroom. Boone started heading for the bar to find Chauncey, but he suddenly noticed Red wasn’t following him. She was frozen at the bottom of the steps, eye staring off in a totally different direction. Tracing her gaze, he saw that she was fixated on the dessert table.

Sighing, he grabbed her by the wrist and led her away. He was not going to let her courier spirit get her distracted so soon. The sniper dragged her to the bar, having to muscle past the crowd just to get seats for the two of them. There was Chauncey, shaking and stirring away at different elaborate cocktails. He was so busy with his job, he almost missed the two.

“What can I get for you?” Chauncey asked them.  
“You know.” Boone answered.

Chauncey took the hint, making a discreet point to the other side of the room.

“He’s over there with a cigar and martini.”

The two turned to see this rumored Boden, and found just who Chauncey had described. An older gentleman, tall, with a scar on his chin. Except one of those features had been greatly underestimated. Boden was quite old; at least in his fifties. If Boone didn’t know who he was, he would have guessed he was someone’s sugar daddy rather than an elite White Glove member. Now he was even more worried about Red flirting with him. Boden looked like the kind of gold-digger who would feel up innocent young girl’s skirts…then again, Boone just did that himself, so he had no room to talk.

“Okay. I’ll be here and you—” he started to say until he turned to his partner.

She was gone, barstool still spinning from when she leapt up from it and tore off into the crowd. Looking into the masses, he spotted a head of red hair bobbing over to the dessert table.

We’re screwed. He thought.

But Red thought they were far from screwed. She had a little less than an hour to smooth-talk a man: that was plenty of time to get sidetracked! Technically, this whole Ultra Luxe mission was one big sidetrack from helping the NCR. And technically that was one big sidetrack from tracking down Benny. But for now, all she had to focus on was whether she wanted jello or candied agave fruit. In the end, she decided the fruit would be a cleaner option, so she grabbed a handful and stuffed them down her gullet.

As she chewed, she explored her surroundings with her eye. Guests were still arriving at the door, Boone was still at the crowded bar as people clambered over one another for a drink, the jukebox was switching holotapes, and Boden was standing a few feet away. Yep, this was just what Red had hoped—wait, fuck! Red froze at the sight of the gentleman, her mouth still stuffed like a chipmunk with agave fruit. Straining her neck, she painstakingly swallowed the mouthful down all at once, nearly making her choke.

It seemed like she had made a total fool of herself and it was all over, but Red bowed her head with a blush and giggled.

“E-excuse me,” she mumbled softly, “Sweets are just so hard to come by and I couldn’t help myself.”

She surprised even herself. Red didn’t know she was capable of sounding so…girly. Boden was quiet for a second before breaking into a smile and approaching.

“That’s quite alright, dear,” he said, “Many are unaccustomed to seeing this cuisine.”

“Yes, you have foods I’ve never even seen before here.” Red agreed as she eyed a bowl of strawberries.

Noticing her stare, Boden reached over to the bowl and carefully plucked the juiciest strawberry from the bunch. Then he held it out for the courier to try, but when she reached out to take it, he evaded her grasp. He still held the fruit out before her, but he wouldn’t let her take it for herself. Red knew what she was hinting at and swallowed nervously. Meanwhile, Boone was trying to ignore discriminatory glances from the bartenders for only drinking straight up whiskey. Taking a sip from his glass, he turned on his stool and spotted Red still at the dessert table.

Surprisingly, she was already conversing with Boden and the two seemed to be getting along so far. I mean, the guy was offering her a strawberry—er—feeding her one. The courier stood on her tiptoes to reach and slowly bit into the berry, lips wrapping around the edges and moving dangerously close to Boden’s hand, all while keeping an uncomfortable eye contact with him. Boone tried to tell himself to leave Red to her work and to stop spying on her, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. The courier delicately bit off from the berry, puckering her lips as she chewed.

Boden was clearly enjoying every second of it. Boone finally convinced himself to go back to his drink and check back when the courier was being less provocative. Ever since he had to fasten her garter, he felt all kinds of weird just looking at her. He wished the night would end quickly.

Even though she had successfully gotten Boden’s attention, Red was felt flustered beyond belief; like her head might explode. But Boden seemed to like that, so he offered her a dance, which she accepted. The only time she learned to dance was when her delivery jobs took her to the Strip, and she’d dance with her courier friends. Even though she wasn’t that good with it, Boden seemed to enjoy the way Courier Six adorably tripped over her own feet.

Chauncey had been right: the guy really was into Red’s type. She just found it unsettling that such a dirty man found such sweet girls attractive. Afterwards, they talked a bit about what Boden did at the Ultra Luxe, but at one point while they sat on the sidelines, he turned to the conversation on her.

“But enough about me, dear, what about you?” he asked.

“Me?” she echoed, gently pointing to herself.

“Yes, what’s it like in the wasteland?” he leaned in closer and placed a hand on her leg.

She didn’t know what to find creepier, that he was touching her or that he somehow knew she was from the wasteland.

“Uh…I-I didn’t mention I was from the wastes.” Red laughed nervously.

“Well it’s so obvious,” Boden chuckled, “You barely recognized our fine selection of food, you dance like a gecko, and you’re missing an eye.”

Red looked away, suddenly feeling ashamed of her lack of class. Had she really looked so stupid all evening? But her suitor was quick to take her chin and carefully turn her back towards him.

“Oh, but, darling, I didn’t mean to offend,” he cooed, “I genuinely want to know more about you.”

“My mother was nailed to a cross, my father shot in the head, my little brother sniped, my eye taken as punishment, and my hometown burned to the ground.” Red went over her backstory her head, but decided it was not the kind that would win Boden’s affections. This was her chance to win his sympathy, so she had to think carefully.

“I was kicked out of my hometown,” she began her lie, “People didn’t like that I was…explorative with what I ate. Ever since I left, everyone is so uneasy around me like…like I’m going to bite them at a minute’s notice. Even my bodyguard is wary of me.”

She gazed directly into his dull, green eyes, going in for the kill, “I can’t help that I have peculiar tastes, can I?”

Boden’s face quickly turned to curiosity as his hand travelled further up the courier’s leg, “And what taste is it that you desire?”

She leaned in as close as she could and whispered, “Human flesh.”

He gave a crooked smile as he leaned back, taking a sip of his cocktail.

“My love, I can get you that in a heartbeat.”

“Y-you can?” Red gasped in excitement, knowing all too well that he had taken the bait.

“Indeed, but you must promise to keep it a secret,” he began looking around to make sure nobody was watching, “There’s going to be a banquet tomorrow in the White Glove members only section. Come, and I promise you’ll have the finest flesh you’ve ever eaten.”

Red let a cute, little smile spread across her face. Hurriedly she nodded in agreement, and Boden pulled a card from his pocket.

“I’ll save you a seat, dear.” He promised as Red took the card.

It was stark white with the words “White Glove Society honorary member” printed on it in gold letters. Remembering her companion, she took on a sort of needy face and looked back up at Boden.

“M-my bodyguard,” she stuttered, “He won’t let me go anywhere without him, a-and I swear he won’t bother anyone. I’ll even have him just stand outside the—”

Boden cut her off with another card pressed softly to her lips. Taking it, she saw that it was identical to hers.

“As long as he doesn’t cause any trouble.” He whispered.

Red mouthed a genuine “thank you” to him, proceeding to stuff the cards down into the bust of her dress, making Boden all the more enticed. She began to think up an excuse to leave, but he beat her to it as he leaned in again.

“Now, dear, how about you tell me how you got this.” He requested as he held her cheek and rubbed her leather eyepatch with his thumb, “Did the wasteland get you?”

Red immediately flinched back, furiously shaking his hand off her. She could tolerate a hand on her thigh (considering it had already been done that night) but she was nowhere near comfortable with a hand anywhere near her eyepatch. Seeing how shocked her abrupt movement had made him, she desperately tried to keep her cute façade up.

“I-I…please, I don’t want to talk about it.” Her normal voice cracking through her fake one.

“Was it a radscorpion? Cazador?” he ignored her protests and moved for her again, “You can tell me.”

“No! It’s—stop, I—” Red was now using her normal voice, desperate to get away from his touch.

So tense with the situation at hand, when Boone grabbed her arm, she yelped and jumped in her chair. He had been watching since after their dance, and he drew the line when Boden moved for Red’s eye. Even though his face was stern and his grip was tight, Red was thankful to see him. Maybe he’d have a tactful excuse to get her out of there.

“C’mon, Red, we have to go.” He ordered.

Or not.

“Huh?” she was dumbfounded at his bluntness.

“I said, come on.” He repeated as he jerked her out of her seat and towards the exit.

Boden, sat speechless as his new dame was dragged away, a little shocked himself at the bodyguard’s brutish nature.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then!” Red mustered up one last cute voice as she was yanked away and into the crowd.

When they made it through the exit, she figured Boone would let go, but he didn’t. He just kept pulling her along, his rough hand digging firmly into her arm. She winced as she trailed behind, trying to get out of his grip, but to no avail.

“Boone!” she tried calling out to him but he didn’t seem to hear.

“Boone, I’m serious!” she tried again.

When they made it to the casino’s front entrance, she finally got his attention.

“Earth to Boone! Your vice grip is killing me!” she exclaimed and at last he released her.

When he turned to face her, he looked furious, but said nothing.

“What was that all about?” she asked cautiously.

“Getting you out. You got the memberships, so why stay?”

“True, but still…” she mumbled as she rubbed her arm, “…Ouch.”

“He shouldn’t have been touching you like that.” Boone said unexpectedly.

Suddenly, things made more sense to the courier. He had gotten her out of there for the sake of their mission, but the death grip was for something else. Red would have liked to think he was just looking out for her, but the way he gripped her so mean made her think otherwise. But the question was if it was being over-protective or being possessive.

“Couldn’t stand to watch you two any longer.” He spat.

“Boone, are you ok?” she ventured.

“Fine.” He huffed.

It sounded rather passive aggressive to her. Chauncey snuck them their weapons back and the two were free to head back to the Lucky 38 for the night. Normally Red would be enthusiastically celebrating a successful mission as Boone tried to downplay their accomplishment, but instead there was an uneasy silence between the two as they rode the elevator up to the presidential suite. The two partners parted to their own rooms without a word, not even a “good night” from Red.

As Courier Six closed her bedroom door, she went right to stripping off her dress. Sure it looked nice on her, but boy was it a constricting outfit. No wonder people didn’t wear dresses in the wasteland; there was no way they could fend off a deathclaw in one of them! It had been an eventful evening and there were a lot of uncomfortable thoughts raging about in her head, but she just wanted to get to sleep so she could ignore them.

Climbing into bed, she felt something cold and metallic on her skin. Throwing back the covers, she found the pistol and garter still buckled to her thigh. Now all those hormonal thoughts Courier Six had tried to hold at bay came rushing at her. The way his hands felt on her skin, the way he grabbed her so tightly; it all made her want things she had never wanted before. Gently undoing the garter, she thought if Boone ever thought lustfully about her, too. But it only took a second of pondering before she concluded with “bullshit.”  
There was no way Boone could ever see her in that way. The death of his wife still seemed so fresh in his mind. Why should he be ready to move on? He was a stoic man and Red figured he had no time for eyeing up female couriers. So she pushed her thoughts back down and set the gun and the garter to the side.

\------  
Notes: Thank you so much to Jules for leaving such wonderful comments, and thank you to everyone who's been leaving kudos, as well! Here is your reward, your first glimpse of some Red on Boone action! Although, it isn't too much. This is a slow burn after all, and I tend to take my slow burns reeeeeaaaally slow. But don't worry, Boone will get his cake eventually ^.-


	12. Rebound to the Heart

Boone was relieved they didn’t have to dress up all fancy again the next night. They still had to turn their weapons in, but Red could wear her vault jumpsuit again, letting her smuggle in a pistol for each of them. Of course when they entered the kitchens, Red got distracted by the brahmin carcasses hanging from the ceilings. Some of them were still fresh, some looked like they had been aging for quite a while, and others were being doused in flames by Ultra Luxe chefs. The courier grinned and pointed like a kid at the zoo, but Boone just dragged her along.

But to her, it was really neat to see how they made their brahmin steaks so tasty! Once he got her back on track, they headed for the main kitchen where the head chef himself was busy barking orders left and right to his subordinates. He was a very pale and lanky man, but he made up for his meager appearance with his bossy voice.

“Why are you standing still?” the chef snarled at Red, “Do you think the world waits for you while you—you stand there drooling? Get back out there and get to work!”

Boone and his companions exchanged glances, a surprised one from Red and a fed up one from Boone.

“Urm…Are you the head chef?” Red ventured cautiously.

“Of course I fucking am!” he spat as he flailed his arms about dramatically, “I’m the fucking god of New Vegas brahmin fusion cuisine!”

More glances.

“Nono,” he quickly corrected himself, “That doesn’t even give me the credit I deserve! I fucking invented edible food!”

At that, Red just guffawed, earning an aghast look from the chef. He looked about ready to make her the new main course! Meanwhile, all the other cooks were trying to look busy so as not to be the subject of his rage.

“Do you LIKE eating?!” he exploded, “Good because you owe me your entire goddamned garbage existence!”

“Look, look,” the courier put her hands out, “I think you have me mixed up for someone else.”

“Oh really?” he sassed, “So despite your filthy face, your vacant expression, and your complete lack of human dignity, you’re telling me you’re not a server?”

That one Red took offense to. She went a little slack-jawed for a moment, her blue eye wide in disbelief. She had been called all sorts of colorful things out in the wasteland, but she never expected a chef of all things to belittle her. As the head chef stood there impatiently, Boone thought she’d snap and just murder him in front of his employees. Hell, it didn’t look like they’d miss him much judging by how cruel he was.

Instead, the courier pointed directly at him and said smartly, “Your predisposition towards anger suggests unresolved issues in your past.”

So psychology was how she was gonna play this one. Just like with the centurion. Boone was interested in how this would play out, and even some of the other cooks were starting to look up from their work.

“What kind of harebrained fucking psychobabble bullshit is that?” he rolled his eyes, “I yell at people because I like yelling at people. Because they fucking deserve it! Not because Mumsy and Daddy-kins didn’t hug me enough.”

Red gave him a faux look of sympathy and shrugged, “But it’s obvious they didn’t. I think you may be projecting that frustration.”

“Oh, I see how it is. You think because my father walked out on us when I was five that I have to yell at people?” the head chef’s sanity began to crack, “Or because my mother was a deranged chem fiend who regularly brought strange men home who told me to call them ‘uncle’.”

Now all the employees had stopped cooking as Sir Yells-a-lot took center stage.

“Or because my sisters would lock me in a shipping crate when they didn’t want me around…and my brother…”

His voice slowly faded into nothing, and he was speechless for a few moments as all the memories flooded back to him.

“God…I-I had forgotten about that. How could they do that to me?” he breathed, “I can’t stay here. I need to be alone.”

“Hmmm?” Red hummed with a triumphant smile, “And what about the banquet?”

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anyways, we’re all going to die eventually,” his voice began to fluctuate as he thrust a key ring and cook book into the courier’s arms, “You do it. I don’t even care anymore!”

With that, the great, terrifying head chef was no more. He left his “kingdom” a sniffling and sobbing mess as his “subjects” all stood in disbelief. Even Boone found himself at a loss for words. This little girl with an innocent smile, holding a cookbook almost the width of her, had talked a grown man down to tears. And there she was like it was another day on the job. The sniper made a mental note not to get on her bad side, or she’d start doing psychology bullshit about his wife.

“Well, looks like I’m in charge!” Courier Six beamed, “So what were you all supposed to be making tonight?”

“W-we had a specimen in the freezer room th-that we were supposed to use.” one of the cooks spoke up.

“Then throw that idea out the window!” Red grinned, “And instead, make a yummy brahmin dish!”

They all began to murmur amongst themselves nervously until the one spoke again, “But Mr. Mortimer says—”

“Do it, or you’ll be leaving this kitchen like your boss did.” Red threatened through grit teeth and a fake smile.

That set them all in motion, immediately pulling brahmin meat from storage and chopping it up for dinner.

“Nice work.” Boone grunted.

“Thanks.” She whispered back.

The courier pulled one of the chefs aside and asked them if they had any left over human flesh, which, luckily for them, they did. She had him prepare just one serving of human and told him to make sure only Mortimer got it. Everyone else was to have regular two-headed cow. With the meal plan all squared away, they snuck off the freezer, unlocked it, and found a very cold teenager shivering in the back. He had a silly looking cowboy hat on, just like Mr. Gunderson, so Red could only assume it was Ted. When he saw the two, he panicked and backed himself further into the wall.

“Calm down,” Red reassured him, “We’ve come to get you out of here.”

“M…My daddy sent you?” Ted asked.

“Mhm.”

“Godddman it, I almost died in here!” he suddenly snapped, “What the hell took you so long? It’s just one damn hotel!”

“Show some respect, kid,” Boone growled, “If it weren’t for us, you’d be cannibal food.”

“C-cannibal food?” Ted gasped, “What’s he mean?”

Oh great, Red already had to explain the whole thing to her partner, now she had to do it all over again to a stuck up rich kid?

“Yeeaahh…Turns out the White Glove Society used to be cannibals, but now they’re not. But Mortimer and some of his lackeys were planning on bringing the tradition back by feeding you to the entire society without their knowledge,” she said as fast as she could, “Make sense?”

“Wait, so they’re man-eating tribals?!” Ted exclaimed, “When my daddy hears about this, he’s gonna shut this place down for sure!”

“No no, it’s just a few of the White Gloves!” Red shook her head, “Look, just wait until after the banquet and we’ll get this all sorted out with your father.”

Heck’s Son gave them both suspicious glances, “I thought you were getting me out of here. Why do I have to wait until after the banquet?”

“We need you as proof that Mortimer’s cannibal. He’s an influential member of this family, so we need all the evidence we can get.”

Ted thought it over for a moment, but it wasn’t like Red was going to give him a choice anyway. She was going to drag his Gunderson ass through that banquet hall no matter what he said.

“Fine, just make sure none of them tries to eat me.” He scowled.

“You have my word.” She promised.

So the three of them stealthily (not so sneaky on Ted’s part) snuck in through the back entrance of the member’s only section. It was much like the Gourmand except that it was significantly smaller, but it had similar décor and setup. Crouching behind the bar counter, Red glanced over at the table where Mortimer was giving a toast. She spotted Chauncey, who looked like he was sweating bullets, probably worrying if they could pull the heist off. But when he saw the courier, he perked up a bit and gave her a weak smile.

“There was a time not so long ago when we were bound together not as members, but as family; as a clan,” Mortimer lectured to the Society, “And when Mr. House came to us with his proposal, we accepted, knowing we stood to gain much. Little did we know how much we’d lose in the process…As a society, we’ve endeavored to sample the finest food and drink the world has to offer, but we are living lie.”

“There is a meat sweeter than the most corn-fed livestock. Most of you have tasted it and all of you have craved it. Among us, it is a crime to discuss a return to the old ways that unified our people.”

Red could hear concerned whispers from the dining table.

“Tonight that all changes. The taboo ends! You don’t know it yet, but you are all now guilty of a greater crime. One that ordinarily bears the harshest of punishments.”

A wave of gasps went across the room.

“Surely that you are all guilty warrants not only universal amnesty but also a renewed discussion. For our society to be truly elite, we must dine on the most delicious and exclusive of foods known to us. And tonight, for the first time as a society, you are sampling that very dish: the meat we are forbidden to taste; the way it was meant to be eaten! Fellow members of the White Glove Society, bon appetit!”

Red heard someone swoon and faint, and she was sure it was the Gourmand’s jumpy receptionist, Marjorie. There was a mix of cheers from Mortimer’s supporters and astonished cries from those who hadn’t been in on it. Red took it as the chance to step in and save the day.

“Oh yeah, ‘bon appetit’ and all that!” she called, her voice echoing across the hall, “Enjoy your perfectly normal brahmin meat!”

“What the—? Who is this trespasser? Security!” Mortimer barked.

“Trespasser? I’m a member.” Red waved her membership card before the congregation.

“Member?!” Mortimer echoed, “Who gave such a tasteless woman membership?”

The courier searched the table for a moment before finding Boden who sat petrified in his seat. The poor man couldn’t believe his “love” wasn’t a cannibal after all.

“Oh hello, sweetie, thanks for the free pass.” Red smirked.

Mortimer gave Boden a “you’re an idiot” look before the courier went on.

“My name is Red Belladue, ladies and gentleman, and I just saved the day! I had the chefs switch out the food, so you’re safe. You’re all just eating brahmin like you usually would. Mortimer on the other hand…is eating leftover fiancé. And this fine young man here…”

Red gestured for Ted to come out of hiding, but the kid just nervously pointed to himself as if to say “me?” Finally, Boone just pushed the boy out into view.

“…Yes, this boy here was kidnapped by Mortimer and was who you were supposed to be eating tonight.”

More gasps went through the hall. Most of the White Gloves were looking back and forth between their plates and Mortimer, but some (who were on the cannibal side) were beginning to look very guilty.

“These are lies!” Mortimer tried to reason with his tribe, “I never kidnapped anyone and even if I did, there’s no harm done! He’s alive, after all!”

“Right, no harm done. Tell that to the missing bride and the dead investigator.” Red shot back.

After hearing so many startling things, one of the White Gloves shakily stood up from the table.

“M-Mortimer? Is she saying you had something to do with the detective and the bride as well?”

“No! No! Don’t tell me you’re all believing this…this deranged outsider!”

Suddenly, Chauncey stood up, his chair scraping on the white marble. He looked dead scared, but he raised his voice as much as he could.

“It’s true! I’ve been in on it the whole time!” he announced, “I’ve been working with Miss Belladue to organize this banquet, and ensure we didn’t revert back to cannibalism.”

That was the last nail in the coffin for Mortimer. All evidence was against him and he knew there was no saving himself now. If he just hadn’t had a rat on the inside, he would have gotten away with it. His face screwed up in anger at Chauncey and his nails dug into the table.

“You…fatherless traitor!” Mortimer shouted, and before anyone could stop him, pulled a gun on his own family.

That gunfire was all it took to send the Society into a frenzy. Half rushed to defend their leader, half rushed to restrain him, and some ran to escape. Courier Six, however, fearlessly ran into the fray, and Boone quickly lost her in the madness.

“Red!” Boone shouted after her.

But the girl barely heard him as she dove fearlessly through the crowd, panic being the only thing that kept her going. She finally came across Chauncey, lying flat on his back, blood pouring from his chest, and the occasional choking or gargling noise sputtering from his throat.

“Shit!” she hissed as she knelt down next to him.

“Hang on, hang on,” she muttered frantically as she tore through her pack.

At last she found the medication she needed, but she could barely keep it still in her hand. Her fingers were shaking from fear; terrified that Chauncey would die on her watch.

“I can save you, I can save you, I can save you…” she kept chanting to herself as her eyes skimmed the man’s body, looking for the right spot to plant the needle.

The courier had studied for years under Dr. Richards, learning every life-saving technique in the book, but now it was like she couldn’t remember anything. Where did the syringe go? What was even in the syringe? Who was this man again?! When she snapped back to reality, she was sweaty and breathless, and also realized she had been stalling. Wasting no more time, she brought the needle down on his chest, but it never even pierced his skin. A large hand grabbed hers, stopping the needle.

Red then realized the chaos had died down, and the loyal White Gloves had the family traitors all cornered. Her eye followed the hand up to an arm, up to a shoulder, and up to her companion: Boone.

“Let it go. He’s gone.” Boone said simply.

Shakily, she looked back to Chauncey, and actually took the time to make eye contact with him. Horror and confusion were all she could read in his eyes; eyes that were now slowly fading until they saw no more. Then Red looked to her hand, and saw she was about to inject him with Rebound. Gasping, she dropped the chem, letting it fall onto Chauncey’s dead body, and Boone released his grasp.

“I…” she tried to say something, but nothing coherent would come out.

Further examining the bullet wound, she saw that it was directly on the heart, pooling out like a fountain. There would have been no saving him, and pumping him with adrenaline would have just prolonged his death. Red went completely unresponsive, and just crouched there over Chauncey, quietly sobbing. Boone was trying to get her attention so she could speak with the rest of the White Glove Society, but it looked like the sniper would be on his own for this one.

He explained the situation the best he could to them, but he didn’t know as much about it as Red. When they suggested they talk to the courier herself, Boone advised against it. The poor thing was in no state to talk. Telling Ted to wait a little while longer, he approached his companion. She had stopped crying, but still looked utterly miserable.

“Red,” Boone spoke up, “It’s time to go.”

She was silent for a moment, then stood up and walked away from the body.

“I…I should have done something.” She whispered, too shaky to raise her voice anymore.

“He knew what he was getting into,” Boone tried his best to console her, but his voice was as blunt and gruff as ever, “He knew the risks.”

She just shook her head and blinked a few times, replaying Chauncey’s death over and over in her mind.

“If I had just…done something different…” she mumbled.

Eventually Boone just told her they had a job to complete, and they returned Ted to his father. The rancher was overjoyed to see his boy again, but was also angry that the casino was going to serve him up for dinner. Red weakly explained that it was less than half of the casino’s staff who were cannibals in the first place, and that see to calm Heck down. Usually the courier was happy to see another mission complete; happy just to have another adventure to look back on; but that night she just looked like she wanted to get out of there.

She didn’t make any more eye contact when she left, and seemed to be totally lost in thought as they walked down The Strip’s streets. After a while, the silence got to Boone, and he stopped in his tracks.

“Red.” he said firmly.

Slowly she stopped and turned around with a tired eye.

“You can’t save everyone.” He told her.

Red’s shoulders heaved and she let her head drop, making Boone wonder if she was going to start sobbing in the middle of the street. But she bit her lip and held back, instead looking back to him.

“It’s not just that,” she admitted, “It’s…”

For a moment, she considered not telling him at all, and hoping they’d forget about all that had happened. However, she was never good at hiding her feelings, so she laid them all out for her companion to see.

“It’s that before we left Camp Forlorn Hope, I told Leone I was confused,” she explained, “About when it was right to let someone die or not. I was worried that I wouldn’t know whether to put someone out of their misery or make them keeping living…He said I’d figure it out, but…”

Her voice faded away, but Boone didn’t say anything. He just let her continue.

“If I had tried to save him, I would have made his last moments that much more painful.”

“But you didn’t.” Boone tried.

“Only because you stopped me!” she burst out, “I-if you hadn’t, it would have been Forlorn Hope all over again!”

Boone got the sense she wasn’t mad at him; in fact, he wasn’t sure if such a sweet person was capable of hating anyone. She seemed to be mad at herself. And she was. Red was so pissed that she had done exactly what she feared she would. She felt like she let Chauncey down, herself down, and Leone down.

“Well, Leone’s right. You’ll figure it out.” Boone assured her, taking a few steps closer, “But you won’t get it right away.”

“I know, I know!” she Red snapped dismissively, “But I have to get it right away—or at least as soon as possible. Because if I don’t, I’m going to let more things like this happen!”

“Let what happen?” Boone started to raise his voice too, “I stopped you, didn’t I?”

“But if you didn’t—” Red began to shout then abruptly cut herself off.

Realizing they were back to square one, she sighed and put her hands up in defeat.

“Never mind. Just…we have a long road ahead of us tomorrow,” she mumbled as she started for the Lucky 38 again, “We should get some sleep.”

Looking behind her, she saw Boone slowly trudging along after her. At least he had cared enough to try and make her feel better. For the quiet man he was, it meant a lot for him to try and reason with her. He was right: she couldn’t save everyone, and Chauncey knew the risks. And hey, he had even stopped her from screwing up. But that didn’t stop the courier from scolding herself.

If Boone hadn’t been there, what would you have done? You would have pumped Rebound into Chauncey’s failing heart and left him flailing for a few more seconds before death.

She pictured that image in her head. A chem needle sticking out of the White Glove’s chest as his eyes, filled with fear, pulsated before slowly and excruciatingly fading. That would have happened had Boone not been there.

You’re a prodigy, Red. You “GET” shit. You got weapon repairs like they were the fucking alphabet and you learned the practice of medicine faster than a pre-war med student. The fact that you don’t get mercy is pathetic. Figure it out or go. Home.

As she settled down into bed for the night; the last time she’d sleep in a real bed for a long time; she had mentally bullied herself to the point of tears. Trying to blink them away, she thought of what Leone might say. Thinking of him often made her feel better, but…she knew he’d only say the same thing as Boone. Except with more compassion and charm.

Besides, it’s not like he’d help very much. He had just rejected her love so him trying to console her would probably only make things more awkward. Red much rather preferred Boone be by her side. Sure, he wasn’t as expressive as Leone, and she didn’t have as much of a history with him either. There was still quite a bit Red didn’t know about him as well, but he felt right for the time being.

Like he was the person she was supposed to be with right now. Maybe it was good she was spending time away from Leone. After all, they’d need some time after the uh…confession. Thinking it over, she felt a small smile creep its way onto her lips. Perhaps fate gave her the chance to travel with Boone because it knew it would be best for her.

And yes, fate was a silly thing to believe in, but Red was silly enough to believe in it.

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Notes: So sorry for the long wait. I'm in the process of moving out for my first year of college, so things are quite stressful if you can imagine. I also had a dry spell of inspiration, but I scraped together and wrote another chapter! I was a little surprised I only got 1 kudos and no comments for my last chapter, though...I worked really hard on that one and it's kind of an important chapter. Just don't forget to leave a comment, it keeps us authors going~


	13. Go to Sleep!

Red was always the first one up and the one to rally Boone from his restless sleep. She’d have her Pip-Boy out, planning their route for the day, and checking that their weapons were in prime condition. So it was strange for her to wake up to Boone knocking on her door, calling for her to wake up. The night before had been so hectic, it left her sleeping like a log well past…noon?! The courier’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as she read the time on the clock.

They had a whole day’s worth of walking to the Dam, and she had already wasted half of it! Red scrambled out of bed but was still disoriented from sleep, so she tripped over her own feet and hit her head on the dresser. She fell flat on her ass, cradling her head as it throbbed. So far, her morning sucked. Since Boone had gotten no response from her other than a startling crash, he went to open the door.

“Red? I’m coming in.” he told her as he opened the door.

He had only ever seen the master bedroom once when he first came to the 38, but it was just as ritzy as he remembered. Courier Six gasped at his entrance and her hand flew up to her scarred eye, hiding it from view. Then when she realized she was only in her pre-war nightgown, her other arm went to wrap around her bust. Still, she felt incredibly exposed and all she could think of was the garter incident…

“B-B-Boone!” she squealed, “Get out!”

If she had anything to throw at him, she would have. Red hated people seeing her exposed skin, especially without her eyepatch. 

“Right. Sorry.” He said in a disgruntled tone as he averted his gaze, “You were just taking a while.”

When the sniper left, Red took a moment to let out a sigh of relief and get her bearings. Slowly standing up, she trudged over to the room’s full length mirror and undressed. She hated her body and its shapeless form. It was like a boney plank of wood; flat and straight with no curves to make it stand out. Her ravaged left eye didn’t make her any prouder, so that was often the first part of her she covered. Quickly, she grabbed her eyepatch off the nightstand and tightly tied it into place.

There. Much better. After that that, she shoved herself into her vault jumpsuit, hiding all but her neck and head. Even better. Boone looked like he had been up for a while, probably pacing about waiting on her, contemplating if she was even ok. He was waiting for her out in the hall, all ready to go. The two embarked from The Strip and headed off into the desert for the Hoover Dam.

Reporting to the Dam was good for the courier. She had never been and she always loved visiting new places, so it was a nice way to bring her out of the doldrums the Ultra Luxe had left her in. Her eye lit up at how big the dam was and her companion could do nothing to stop her from exploring every bit of it.

“Ooh! If I dropped a ball from up here, how long do you think it’d take to reach the bottom?!” she grinned as she leaned over the Dam’s edge.

Glancing over at Boone to see if he had an estimate, she only saw him roll his eyes from behind his shades and turn away. Maybe he gave a small chuckle, but maybe it was just Red’s wishful thinking.

When she was done gawking at the land mark, the two went inside to the visitor’s center where Colonel Moore was waiting for them. The Colonel had to clear her throat rather loudly just to get Red’s fleeting attention. She informed them of a tribe isolated at the edge of the Mojave known as “The Boomers”. Red was in the dark on the whole story, but Boone had heard rumors about the tribe’s infamous xenophobia. They started out as Vault-dwellers, venturing out into the wastes and somehow coming across a large cache of explosives. After that, anyone who ever tried to approach their territory was blasted off the face of the earth, hence the name “The Boomers”.

When Moore had explained the tribe’s history to Red, she then informed her that NCR could benefit greatly from an alliance with the Boomers. With access to all that firepower, they’d instantly have an edge on the Legion. Like most quests that came her way, Red accepted and headed out without another word. The trek from the Dam all the way to the Boomers was a very long one, and nothing too notable happened on their journey except for one day where Red became separated from Boone. One minute he was there, the next, she looked behind her and he was gone!

“Boone?” she called into the desert.

No reply. She tried calling his name again, but still nothing. Red had gotten lost from him before, but this time was different. She couldn’t tell why, but she felt far more scared and abandoned. It was like a child losing their parents in a crowded place.

“B…Boone?” she called again, but this time weaker.

The fear continued creeping through her until it coursed through all over her. Unable to take it anymore, she turned to run in any direction, but was stopped short by somebody. A very tall, very formidable Legion soldier stood in front of her, staring her down like prey. At first, Red thought he was some kind of giant, but then she realized that she had gotten smaller. Standing at the height of a prepubescent girl, she trembled beneath his gaze.

The soldier took a step forward and Red opened her mouth to cry out for Boone, but instead she screamed, “Zach! Zach!”

The Legionary lashed out from his still stance, and ferociously gripped her red hair, yanking her closer. She struggled against him, and during her thrash, she caught sight of a dead body a little way’s off. It was small and bleeding out from the head. Red knew who it was and froze on the spot, staring in disbelief at the carnage.

“Zach! No!” she cried out her brother’s name.

Taking advantage of the distraction, the Legion Soldier pinned her, straddling her to make sure she didn’t try to scramble away. Red just kept on screaming for someone to come help her, but the only name she could say was her sibling’s.

“That’s gonna cost you an eye, bitch!” The soldier grinned sadistically as he whipped out a switch blade.

No. This can’t be happening again. NOT AGAIN! Red thought as she squirmed under his body. This is either a hallucination, a lucid daydream, or a nightmare.

Either way, she knew she had to wake up soon, especially with the pain of the knife in her eye being so real. It carved into the socket, making her give out shrill scream and kick her legs frantically. It dug into the back of her eye, severing all the delicate nerves that held the eye in place. It stung from both the knife and the gushing blood.

Wake up, Red. This is where you—

Her whole body flinched as she took a sharp breath and her eye opened wide. The camp was just how it had been when they set up at sundown. Her pack and Boone’s were in the center, two frag mines on either end, and Boone placed on a ridge as night watch. Sitting up, she felt for her left eye, and sighed in relief when she felt black leather rather than intense gore. Boone had been keeping watch all night, and he had heard his companion lurch awake. Now he was turned from the ridge, watching her hug her knees to her chest, taking deep breaths.

That pale, clammy skin she had, that spooked look on her face, the way she wrung her hands; Boone knew the symptoms all too well. Getting up from his position, he approached and handed her a flask.

“Here. It helps.” He grunted.

Red took it with no hesitation and unscrewed it, looking for anything to help calm her nerves. But one whiff from the whiskey inside and the courier made a face, quickly screwing the cap back on. With her childish tastes, Boone figured she’d be much more content with a glass of warm milk.

“No thank you.” She grimaced as she handed the flask back.

Wordlessly, he grabbed it and took a swig for himself. He was about to go back to his watch, when Red stopped him.

“Wait. How long have you been up?”

“Just a few hours. Not long.” He answered.

Rather than take his word for it, Courier Six checked her Pip-Boy to see it was 3 am, six hours after they made camp. She looked back up at Boone with a shocked expression.

“Boone, you’ve been up long past your shift!” she gasped, “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You need your rest.” He answered simply.

“Well so do you.” She tried to reason with him.

Quickly, she stood up from the ground, but it just caused her to go all dizzy. The world spun and bobbed around in her vision until the ground suddenly became very close. She would have face planted if her companion wasn’t so quick catch her.

“Whoa there.” Boone said, “You ok?”

The courier blinked a few times before becoming aware his hands firmly gripping her sides. It reminded her of the Ultra Luxe all over again, so she hurriedly pulled away to stand on her own, arms wrapped around herself.

“Yeah…Yeah, I’m fine.” Red mumbled as she rubbed her eyepatch.

She didn’t look entirely fine. There was still a tremble to her body and her nails dug into the eye patch side of her face, leaving little marks around the socket. There was a short pause as Boone looked her hunched form over.

“No. You’re not.” he told her gruffly, “You should go back to sleep.”

“You’re the one who needs rest,” she argued, “You’ve been taking first watch every night, and sometimes you take my shift, too. If anyone needs sleep, it’s you.”

Although the dream had been terrifying, it had let her see just how much Boone was torturing himself. She wouldn’t have known he stayed up this much otherwise.

“I’m fine.” He stated bluntly before stifling a yawn.

Only then did Red stop cradling her face to point out his tired expression, “See? I told you. Now, please, just let me take my watch tonight.”

Boone cursed under his breath, feeling so stupid as to let a simple yawn show. The man was tired but he had no desire to succumb to any sort of sleep. But knowing Red wouldn’t back down, he sighed and went to find a comfortable patch of dirt. Red watched him lie down, his back to her, before going over to the ridge where he had been earlier. Nothing interesting happened during her watch; no giant ants or Powder Gangers. Only a soft throbbing around where her left eye used to be.

She noticed that even though she sentenced her follower to a good night’s sleep, he never followed up on that command. Judging by the uneven breathing and occasional fidgeting, Red knew he wasn’t anywhere close to rest. Thinking back on their travels, she had never seen him sleep before, simply assuming he was snoozing when she wasn’t looking. But seeing him now made her worry. Was this the way it was every night? No wonder he was always so surly.

When the sun rose again, Red didn’t even need to wake Boone up. He had been awake the whole night, and was on his feet before she even got to him. He thought about Red’s nightmare from the night before. At least, he was pretty sure it was a nightmare. He was familiar with all the symptoms and since she had been covering her missing eye, he assumed her dream was about the Legion. The sniper had never seen Red have a nightmare before, and seeing her so shaken up made him wonder if he looked the same after his own night terrors.

Either way, they were only one night away from the Boomer’s territory. On that last night, Red insisted she take first watch and Boone reluctantly let her take it. Everything was fine for the first hour, and she was certain Boone had finally fallen asleep, but then he began to flinch. The way his body twitched started to make her nervous, and for a bit, she thought he might be having a seizure. Then the incoherent grumbles started. It wasn’t any more unusual than the usual mumbles he gave when they were on the road, but it was strange hearing them in his sleep. Kind of like he was talking to somebody who wasn’t there.

Watching his cringing form through the dark, Red started to worry for him. It was obvious he was having some sort of lucid nightmare, and if that was how he slept every night, she could understand why he avoided rest. After a good amount of flinching, Red abandoned her post to wake him. She knew she wouldn’t want to be left suffering in a nightmare. So she crept up to his body, carefully kneeling down beside it, wondering the best way to get him up.

Really, there was no peaceful way to wake up from a nightmare, but nevertheless, she wanted to be as gentle as possible. Cautiously, she gripped his shoulder and gave it a few firm shakes.

“Boone,” she whispered, “Boone, wake up.”

All she got was louder grumbling as his face scrunched up like she had punched him in the face.

The courier tried shaking him harder now, “Wake up. Seriously—”

Boone awoke with a start, going straight into attack mode. He seized Red’s arm tightly and rose his other hand to execute some means of attack, but he stopped when he realized it was her. Courier Six just sat there, frozen, mouth open from almost screaming in shock. She didn’t see that coming at all, but it looked like Boone’s nightmare had shaken him up pretty badly. Realizing what he had done, he released his partner and let out a tired sigh.

“You scared the shit out of me.” He mumbled.

She could have said the same. For a few seconds, Red said nothing. Seeing him so rattled, she wondered if that was how she looked after her own nightmares.

“Sorry about that.” He muttered.

Slowly, he raised himself up from the ground and put his First Recon beret back on.

Red watched as he steadied himself and she asked, “You alright?”

“Let me take watch.” Was his prompt response.

She stood up next to him, checking her Pip-Boy, “You still have time…”

“I don’t want time.” His response was immediate and sharp.

“What is this about?”

“It’s about not sleeping if I don’t have to.”

There was a pause as Red tried to work out the man’s logic. If he had such terrible nightmares keeping him from sleep, wouldn’t he spend more time trying to sleep?

“Look, Boone, I know you have bad nightmares, I do too, but—”

“I’ve been travelling with you for months and I’ve only seen you have one,” he cut her off, “You barely have to worry about them.”

“Right, so I get more sleep and you don’t,” she argued, “then shouldn’t I be taking more watches than you?”

“Sleep’s too complicated. Half the time it doesn’t even happen for me. Even if it does, it’s hardly ever pleasant.” He answered.

“What’s keeping you up?” she tried asking.

“You think I wanna talk about it?” he snapped.

Now she was just starting to get fed up. He was being so closed off to her again; not giving her a single clue to what the problem was. So she puffed out her chest and put her hands on her hips.

“Fine. Well I for one am going to stay up and finish my watch,” she declared, “You can go back to sleep or stay up with me, but either way, I’m staying up for my last two hours.”

“Knock yourself out.” Was his blunt response before taking a swig from his flask and setting up with his sniper rifle.

Red plopped down next to him with a huff, her arms crossed over her chest. To her, it seemed like Boone wanted a solution to his problems. He looked so worn out that one would think he’d want relief, and often that could be found by confiding in another. Then why was he acting like he didn’t want to tell her? If he really wanted to rid himself of his nightmares, why wouldn’t he let her help him?

Well, she was going to show him how much she wanted to help by staying up and—Red fell asleep. Shortly after she took up next to Boone, she leaned up against a desert rock and slowly drifted off. Never even finished her watch. Now both of them were grumpy on the last stretch to Nellis Airforce Base. Neither of them talked, and Red didn’t have the usual upward-bound spring to her step.

When the base’s tall fencing and barricades came into view, Red could see just how destructive the tribe really was. A half a mile of rubble, craters, and bodies littered the ground, all leading up to the main gates. The courier suddenly felt a little less sure about the Boomers. What if they were like the Great Khans but with explosives? Yikes. While Red was busy grimacing at the carnage, Boone was studying exactly where all the craters were. He checked for hiding spots left in blown up ruins, and began mapping out a possible route to take that would get them to the fence.

“Alright, listen,” he told his companion as he gazed on the field, “There’s clearly points where they can and can’t hit. Some spots we should avoid to.”

As he talked, he heard Red rummaging around in her backpack, but he paid it no mind, and just kept talking.

“Start there…move there…wait for a few seconds…” he lectured as he pointed out all the safe spots.

Now he could hear a…it sounded like a pre-war hairspray bottle being shaken up. There was Red getting distracted, but then there was just Red ignoring him, and Boone did not like being ignored. With an irritated sigh, he turned to the courier who was bringing a large bottle of hairspray with a jet inhaler crudely attached up to her mouth. Boone looked completely taken aback! He never knew Red to do chems, and he certainly didn’t think she’d choose them over strategy!

With a hardy breath, Courier Six breathed in the toxic fumes of the Turbo, and let the canister clatter to the desert floor. The sniper let his jaw go slack as Red gave him a quick salute.

“See you on the other side!” she chirped and sped off for the fences like a jackrabbit.

What the fuck? That girl was going to get herself killed! Yet she was prancing through the crater-filled valley like it was any other fucking day in the Mojave.  
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Notes: So sorry for the short hiatus. I had a big transition in my life recently with college and what-not, but now that things are staring to settle down, I'll have more time to write. Please leave a comment, they REALLY DO help! Kudos are great, but comments are even better. Thanks so much for reading!


	14. Savages with Hearts

The last time Red had used chems was in a fight against some stunted deathclaws. It was Rebound; just one hit of it to keep her going, but that had been months ago. As a result, her body was totally caught off guard by the sudden intake of Turbo. The fumes made everything go in slow motion to her, and kept her running as the Boomers took shots at her. But when she made it to the gates, the Turbo wore off, allowing a rush of exhaustion and dizziness to take over. Red could barely hear the tribe’s demanding questions as they approached her. She could tell they were shocked that she made it past the artillery, but also pissed that an outsider would come so close to their territory.

Probably questions like “who are you”, “why are you here”, or even “what the fuck was that?” Not like she could hear what they were really saying. Everything sounded so distant and muffled like a pre-war recording, and her sight was gradually growing blurrier by the second. The courier raised a hand to stop the oncoming barrage of questions, and the guards waited patiently for what the girl had to say. But rather than explain herself, she just teetered for a few seconds before promptly passing out. The Boomers weren’t sure what to do now.

They could always drag her back to the edge of the bomb field and leave her, but some worried she might have friends waiting on the other side. The only other option was to take her to the infirmary and wait for her to wake up. But that also brought the many risks of a potentially dangerous outsider within the confines of the airfield. After a bit of bickering, the guards decided to bring her in, so one of them hauled her over his shoulder, and carried her in. 

Boone watched the whole ordeal through his scope, sighing in annoyance when he saw them carry Red in like a sack of potatoes. Of course Courier Six would get herself into a mess like this. Huff some Turbo, speed through an open plain while dodging bombs, faint in front of her attackers. Ugh. This meant he was going to have to find his own way in.

Red awoke in a confused haze, unsure of where she was or how she got there. She was lying on a bed with an IV in her arm, so she assumed she was in some kind of sick bay. The roof was metal, and rounded, reminding her of some of the small hangars at Camp McCarran. It took her a few moments to conclude she was in the Boomers’ infirmary. She smiled as she recalled the dumbfounded expression on Boone’s face when before she took off for the airfield. But that smile quickly faded when she turned and saw the sniper sitting next to her bed, a very disgruntled look etched into his face.

Even though she couldn’t see his eyes past his sunglasses, she just knew they were stern and cold. Red was in trouble, and she knew it. Still, he wasn’t looking straight at her…Maybe if she just closed her eyes and pretended to still be knocked out…Too late. Boone noticed, and turned towards her, making the courier flinch a little. She had that kind of guilty face dogs had when they knew they did something wrong. Wrong, but still worth it.

“The _fuck_ kind of stunt was that?” Boone growled.

“I…” the courier tried to sit up, but was forced back down by a scalding headache, “I just thought it would be easier.”

“Yeah, well you nearly got yourself killed,” He said bluntly, “I had a plan. Why didn’t you listen?”

Red let out a long sigh as she rubbed her forehead, “It was fine, your plan. But I wasn’t seeing the pattern you saw. To me, it looked like there was no tactical way to read their attacks, so the only way I could see was to…well, to wing it.”

Boone only rolled his eyes and shook his head. No point in arguing with her. She’d always be the reckless one, and trying to change that would be impossible. Then the sniper dragged a hand down his face, trying to fight the urge to rub his eyes. He was tired and it was clear to Red. She was the one who seized up and collapsed, but he still looked far worse.

“You look terrible.” She murmured with no tact.

He shook his head, trying to wake himself up, and then grumbled, “I’m fine.”

Red would have pried more but just then one of the Boomers came into the room. She had long black hair done up in a high ponytail and an Asian face to match. She was wearing worn down combat armor and had a few scars on her arms to show she had seen her fair share of fights. 

“So the second outsider is finally awake,” the woman mused, “We don’t really get visitors around here, much less ones that fall over at the front gates.”

“Sorry…” Red mumbled as she managed to sit up in bed, then suddenly realized, “Wait, Boone, how did you get past the bomb field?”

“Your friend snuck up to the gates while we were busy dragging you inside. Said you were ambassadors from the NCR here to discuss an ‘alliance’,” She answered, “He had us pretty skeptical, but then Mother Pearl intervened. She’s very interested in meeting both of you.”

“Mother…Pearl?” Red echoed.

Like mother OF pearl?

“Yes, she is our eldest; our elder if you will. Now come with me. Follow close and mind your behavior.”

Courier Six dragged herself from the bed, a dull pain still ringing at the back of her head. The two followed the tribeswoman out of the infirmary and into the hot afternoon. Red winced at the sunlight, but once her eyes adjusted she was able to see the airfield fully. It was big; bigger than Camp McCarran! There were little metal huts like the infirmary around the territory, and they all surrounded the main air force base, which held up quite well despite being 200 years old.

When Red stepped foot inside, she immediately thought of a stereotypical grandmother’s house. The house was small with homemade quilts draped over just about everything, and old books filling every cranny of every shelf. Little wind chimes hung by the doors and the air smelled like dinner had just finished up. This was where the elder lived? Maybe Mother Pearl should be Grandmother Pearl. Red started to smirk at the joke, but quickly stiffened up and tried to look professional as the Mother herself came into the room.

Pearl looked as classic grandma as her house. Wrinkly face, squinty tired eyes, curly white hair, and thin lips that always curved upwards no matter the circumstance.

“Welcome, children, you took your sweet time getting here, didn’t you?” Mother Pearl chuckled as she looked them over, “I’ve been waiting a good five years for an outsider to come and visit.”

Boone wasn’t used to being referred to as “child”, but then again, he didn’t often hang around people as old as Pearl. He was quite the child to her, and Red a toddler.

“Weeelll, you don’t exactly make it easy.” Red shrugged.

“I’m sorry for any trouble the guards gave you, but we simply want to steer clear of wasteland savages,” Pearl apologized, “It’s such an unforgiving place out there. Most of what tries to come in as ill intent.”

“We don’t have bad intentions,” Red shook her head, giving the elder a sincere look, “The NCR sent us to negotiate a potential alliance.”

“Hmm…” the old lady furrowed her brow, placing a wrinkled finger to her lips as she thought, “Yes, that’s what your friend claimed. But if the Republic wants our aid, they must gain our trust as well.”

_Oh great_ , Boone thought, _more crazy tribals who want them to undergo some silly “rite of passage” to achieve trust._

Why couldn’t they be civilized and just agree to the terms? Why couldn’t they be civilized and stop throwing bombs at people?! From Boone’s point of view, the Boomers had no room to be holding out. If they wouldn’t give the NCR their support, then fine. The war would end on its own, and whoever ended up winning (hopefully the NCR) would take over the Mojave. All of the Mojave; including land that belongs to xenophobes.

“How can we earn your trust?” Red asked wholeheartedly.

Again, a total sap willing to help anyone who asked for it.

“Oh, so many ways!” Mother Pearl gave the courier a crinkled smile, “Small ways to begin with so we can get used to having a sav—er—outsider around, I mean.”

Shall we start with baking cookies, Granny? Red made another joke in her head and had to bite her lip to keep from giggling.

“Should that go well, you can move onto big ways too,” Pearl finished, “Prove to us that we can trust you, and we will gladly support the Republic.”

Suddenly, the courier narrowed her eye at the elder, making the elder give a suspicious glare right back.

“How can we trust each other if you’re keeping secrets?” Red asked.

The tribeswoman from before took on a shocked expression and quickly intervened, “Mother Pearl, you don’t have to answer that. Outsider, you are in no position to be interrogating our eldest in such a way!”

“Now, now, Raquel,” the Mother snapped, “They may be outsiders, but they are also ambassadors; representatives of their people. We must show respect, and the girl is right: we shouldn’t be keeping secrets.”

Raquel slowly drew back, crossing her arms with an angry sigh. Pearl went back to Red and answered her original question.

“You must keep in mind, outsider, that you’re the first contact we’ve had with the outside world since I was barely a woman.” Pearl explained, “Seclusion has kept us safe, but the world around us is changing. Neon lights in the distance, patrolling robots…”

She gestured to Boone.

“…Soldiers. My youngers believe our guns can keep the world out, but I think we need to let it in, just a little, or become its victim.”

_Exactly_. Boone thought.

“You two are that little bit of the world. Welcome to Nellis.” Pearl concluded on a rather serious tone, abruptly putting a lot of weight on Red’s shoulders.

Not only was she representing the NCR, but she was now representing the entire wasteland! She knew she had better make a good impression on these people, or they’d never think about opening up to the world ever again! Red took a deep breath before giving Pearl a determined look.

“Where should I begin?” she asked sincerely.

“Right now, we’re swimming in problems, but I’ll let Raquel fill you in on all that.” she said, “Good luck, outsider.”

Red gave her a reassuring nod, before turning to Raquel who was beginning to look very disgruntled by the courier. Courier Six assumed she was one of the “youngers” Mother Pearl was talking about. Raquel muttered something under her breath before pushing off the wall towards Red.

“Right. We have a bug problem in the reactor room that needs to be dealt with, people who have been wounded from said problem that need tending to, and our solar panels need some serious repairs,” she lectured, “Or, Mother Pearl says you can go see Pete at the museum and hear the story of our tribe. Might be good to know a bit more about our people. Both of you also have the privilege of coming and going from our land as you please. We’ve been ordered not to fire at you, but should you give us a reason…”

Raquel simply left it at that, shooting the two an ominous glare. ‘Nuff said as some would say. But Red was set on making every last Boomer trust her, including the ever-stoic Raquel.

“I’ll deal with your bug problem. Just point me in the right direction.” Boone was oddly the first to speak.

“Sure thing, I’ll show you where to go. Just follow me.” Raquel instructed and headed for the   
door.  
He started to follow when Red piped up, “On your own? You sure you—”

“ _Yes_.” Boone replied harshly, accentuating each part of the word.

He was starting to get sick of the courier’s fretting. Boone thought he was tougher than he looked, and he hated when people pitied him or hovered over him to make sure he was “doing alright”. That left Red all by herself, awkwardly standing in Granny—er—Mother Pearl’s house. So, she shrugged and headed for the museum. History always interested Red, especially ancient Roman history, even if it was associated with Caesar’s Legion. She hoped the tribe would have a fascinating story as well, although it did strike her as odd that a totally secluded people would need a museum.

Were they hoping to educate tourists about their culture? What tourists? All the ones lying dead outside the gates? Maybe the museum was for teaching the younger generation, Red thought. That made sense…sort of. The building was shaped like all the others, long with a domed roof, and made entirely from metal. Poking her head through the door, Red saw it was nicely set up to look like a visitor’s center (what visitors?!), with a large mural painted on one side of the house. Other than the mural, there didn’t seem like a lot of artifacts or texts to study.

“Hello?” Red called as she carefully shut the door behind her, “Pete?”

“Hm?” a curious voice responded, “Who is it?”

A little boy, no older that 13, walked up to Red, staring wide-eyed up at her with great fascination. He had scruffy brown hair and blue eyes, kind of like Zach, but much more plump.

“You’re the outsider, aren’t you?” he asked, “Mother Pearl sent word that you’d be stopping by.”

“That’s right!” Red grinned and bent down to the child’s size, “I’m looking for a man named Pete. Think you can help me find him?”

The boy said nothing and continued to stare blankly at the outsider.

“I _am_ Pete.” He stated politely.

“Wait, really?” Red stood up straight again, “You run this museum?”

“All on my own. I’m the Keeper of the Story,” Pete nodded proudly, “I know I seem young, but that’s because I used to be the apprentice Keeper up until a few months ago. The old Keeper, Don, well…Whiskey and land mines don’t go together. Now it’s up to me to pass on our people’s story.”

The courier stifled a laugh at the whiskey and land mine part, thinking how that might make for a more entertaining story. But seeing as how Pete was starting to give her a glare, she straightened up and gave him a smile.

“Then let’s hear it!” Red beamed, eager to see him show off his wits.

“Excellent!” he beamed right back, “You’re the first outsider to ever hear our tale!”

Pete then cleared his throat and walked the farthest end of the mural. It started with a picture of a Vault—Vault 34 to be exact—and Pete told her the Boomers were originally from there. That would explain why all the tribe members wore old vault suits and had big 34’s on the back of their jackets. According to Pete, the people of the Vault were “oppressed” because the Overseer wouldn’t allow them to explode anything. So, the vault-dwellers left and explored the Mojave, encountering “savages” that they blew up with their explosives. That part of the mural had little silhouettes lobbing fire at other silhouettes.

Although they were good at holding off the “savages” the Boomers needed a secure home to defend them for good. So, they settled Nellis Airfield, blasting any outsiders who dared approach to Oblivion. The painting of Nellis was pretty accurate and detailed. There was one part that Red hadn’t seen in the airfield, though: a restored fighter jet. Maybe she just missed it?

“Is that…” Red pointed up at the plane, and Pete only nodded.

“It is. Nellis has revealed to us many secrets. It’s taught us how to fly the bombers once based here, and it’s even shown us where to find one!”

“Do…do you have a real working one here?” she asked eagerly.

“Well, no…” Pete mumbled, but then perked up, “But we know where to get one, and the flight simulators in main part of the base have prepared us for the day it will arrive.”

The words “flight simulator” got Red all sorts of excited. She’d love to hop inside one and feel the rush of G forces against her as she bombed enemy planes! Not to mention she could learn a lot from just from tinkering with a simulator.

“Before you get any get any ideas, the simulations are for tribe members only.” Peter broke her daydream.

“Aw…Boo…” Red pouted, slumping her shoulders in defeat, “Well, thanks for telling me your history, Pete. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Ok. Bye, outsider!” Pete smiled as Red sauntered outside.

It had been so long since Red had gotten a good history lesson. Most scavvers in the wasteland would find them unbelievable boring, but she always saw them as like books. Each culture and each period had its own story. Except they weren’t fictional; everything in them was real! And it was neat that the Boomers were going to really bring a bomber back to life!

She took in a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, stretching her arms up to the sky and arching her back, even letting a small moan escape her lips. Yep, she could learn to like these people. While Red enjoyed her charming history lesson and stroll to the main hangar, Boone was busy coughing through smoke left by giant fire ants. Even though he got the dirtiest job of the bunch, he still didn’t mind. The fight would keep him awake; alert. Wouldn’t give him to time to think or drift off.

Sure, the ants’ fire stung, but it was either that or let his nightmares get him. As he wiped the sweat and blood from his eyes and reloaded his rifle, he thought of how mindless he could really be. Here he was, trying to get an adrenaline boost that would keep his thoughts at bay. He stayed awake to keep his dreams at bay, drank to keep his emotions at bay, and brushed Red off to keep his feelings at bay. Yeah, he was ready to admit it: Red was attractive, but that was it. Boone wouldn’t let himself think of her as any more than that: an attractive friend.

An attractive friend with a good heart, a peaceful sleeping face, a cute smile, a distinctive moan, a thin body, and—okay, enough. Boone shook his head as he tried to get her out of his head. He let out an irritated growl, then spit. Back to work, he thought as he continued on. Back to not thinking about anything. So as Boone fought through a colony of huge ants, Red was being sent out to repair the tribe’s solar panels. Hey, one could argue both tasks are equally as difficult. Not to mention Red had to lug a large toolbox out with there with her. An old man by the name of Loyal had sent her out to have a look at them and even sent his assistant, Jack, along with her. He was a stiff, awkward fellow who looked like he spent every day working with oil and engine grease. Probably only 18 years old.

Jack was just as interested with Red as Pete had been and questioned her nonstop during their walk to the panels. Red didn’t mind though. The poor guy had never stepped foot outside the air force base, so he was probably itching to hear something new. If Courier Six ever had to live her life in an isolated territory…well, she wouldn’t. She would escape the first chance she got and make for adventure!

“I always thought you savages spoke a different language,” Jack marveled, “But you sound just like us.”

Red giggled and replied, “You know, there are some great minds out there, Jack. Not everyone in the Mojave is a mindless killer. Like, once I met a man who performed brain surgery on cybernetic dog!”

“Wow. I bet you’ve seen everything out there.” Jack gaped.

“Well, not everything.” Red said bashfully.

“Hey, uh…” Jack suddenly took on a more awkward demeanor, “Have you ever seen a…I mean have you ever been passed the…um.”

He was silent for a moment as he seemed to be thinking hard. Red raised her eyebrows as if to say “go on”. But then he just sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Never mind. Just forget it.” He mumbled sadly.

For a moment, she was confused by his behavior, but then recognized the look on his face. His mouth curved slightly into an uncomfortable frown, a tint of red on his cheeks and ears, brows furrowed in concentration. It was the same look she used to see in the mirror every time she thought of Leone. Jack had a crush.

“A _‘personal matter’_ , eh?” Red laughed as she nudged him with her elbow, “Handsome guy like you, I bet there’s a girl involved, isn’t there?”

Jack’s head shot up at that, his eyes now wide and his whole face taken over with a blush.

“Y…You think I’m handsome?!” he nearly yelled in disbelief, then muttered, “I wonder if she   
does, too…”   
Then he was quiet again as he thought, so Red nudged him again.

“Soooo? Who is she?” she sang playfully.

“Well…I don’t really know her name…” he admitted shamefully.

Red didn’t care, though. That just made the love story all the more mysterious.

“Then what’s she look like?” she tried.

“Oh, you can’t miss her!” Jack exclaimed passionately, “She has short red hair, and—and she’s the most beautiful woman who ever lived! I see her through my binoculars when I’m looking over at Vegas. She looks through her binoculars, too…and sometimes I wonder if she sees me.”

Now Red wasn’t so anxious to hear about this girl. Now she was just feeling a little uncomfortable.

“Uh. It’s not me, is it?” she asked nervously.

Jack gave her a side glance before looking a little worried himself.

“I—I don’t think so…why? Do you look through binocular sometimes?”

“Sometimes…”

Both of them fell quiet, the only noise being the gravel under their feet crunching. The courier had never hoped for things to go this way!

“Are you ever near the Crimson Caravan company?” he asked.

“Sometimes…”

She tried to think of something that would prove that she wasn’t Jack’s “mystery girl” because she did not have time to play his Juliet.

“But I’ve never seen anyone looking back at me!” She concluded.

A wave of relief washed over both of them, and Zach even let out a breath he had been holding for quite a while.

“Heheheh. Yeah, no way it could be you,” he chuckled awkwardly, “Nope. Not at all.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s good.” Red did the same.

By then, the two had reached the solar panels. About twelve of them were lined up in three rows, and more than half of them were busted up. Jack thought that they were broken beyond repair, and they’d need completely new parts from somewhere else. Red, however, hopped right up on the ledge they were lined on and opened the toolbox. She assured him that she had it all under control and began working on them right away.

Jack tried to help, but most of the techniques Red used were ones he had never seen before. So he took to sitting next to the toolbox and handing her whatever tool she needed next. For Red, it was easy. Fixing the panels were like fixing guns, but just really big guns that shot sun beams instead of bullets. When they moved onto the second solar panel, she attempted talking about Jack’s crush again, hoping it wouldn’t end as badly as before.

“So,” she spoke up from underneath the panel where she worked, “Do you want me to see if I can find her?”

“Hm? Oh, well, that would be risky wouldn’t it?” he was starting to get cold feet, “What if she gets blown up coming here, or doesn’t want to come here in the first place? What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Eh, don’t worry about her coming here. I’m pretty good at persuading others,” she bragged as she applied more duct tape to the bottom of the panel, “I can also talk to Pearl about giving her safe passage past the bomb field. There, that’s two less things to worry about.”

“As for the last one, though…” Red said in a more serious tone, “That’s just a risk you’re going to have to take.”

“Oh.” Jack sighed.

Crawling out from under the panel and sitting up, Red gave him a sincere look with her one eye.

“That’s the risk of loving someone, Jack. You won’t know if they like you back, but you love them anyway. Whether they feel the same way is up to them. But…” she looked down at her lap “There’s no way of knowing until you tell them how you feel.”

All this was giving her flashbacks to her last night with Leone.

“And what if she doesn’t feel that way about me?” he asked.

“Then that’s life,” Red laughed bitterly, a crack forming in her voice, “Maybe life will give you someone new to love…”

Oh, God, why was she thinking of Boone right about now?

“…Or maybe it won’t. But life’s too short to let love pass you by.” She finished.

Yet another silence fell between the two young Romantics, Red staring down at nothing and Jack staring at her in awe. Finally, when the courier looked up, she was astonished to see just how much her words had affected Jack. He seemed to buy into everything she had said, hanging onto every word.

“Oh, well I-I didn’t mean for things to get so deep!” she said frantically, trying to manage a smile, “I guess what I mean to say is, you should go for it! Totally!”

He slowly smiled, “Thank you, outsider. You were right, not all of your kind are savages.”

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Notes: Sorry for the wait, but as a piece of good news, my badass beta, EpicOfMe is back to beta-ing my work. We got a little busy for a while, but now we're back in action! Kudos are nice, but comments are better! Thank you~


	15. You Can't Help

Mother Pearl was skeptical of Red’s plan at first. The tribe had already let two outsiders in, and that alone was enough to stir up the airfield. But now the courier wanted to bring in _another_ outsider? Pearl’s goal had been to let the Mojave in, but not this quickly! Still, Red’s silver tongue convinced her otherwise. She gushed on and on about how Jack was truly in love and how he may never get a chance like this again. The whole story reminded the elder of when she was Jack’s age. So she relented and gave Red permission to escort this new girl into their territory the next day. But the sun was beginning to set, so she didn’t want Red wandering off into the wastes so late at night.

Pearl simply told her to go introduce herself to the doctor because she was to work with him the next day on some of the tribe’s patients. As long as Doctor Richards wouldn’t be there, Courier Six was up for the task. By the time she neared the infirmary where she had first awoken, her Turbo-induced headache was starting to come back. She couldn’t wait to get the introduction over with so she could scarf down dinner and plunge into bed. But just as Red reached the door, she spotted someone approaching. It was Boone, walking with a tired slouch to his back, and a subtle limp in his right leg.

Then Boone noticed his companion, too, stopping and looking up from the ground. The warm sunset had her backlit just like it had in Boulder City, the warm glow melting in with her scarlet hair and contrasting with her blue eye. Her blue eye, that for some reason stared wide-eyed as she stood frozen in place. For a few seconds, neither of them said a word. Finally, Red’s brow creased in worry as she hurried up to him.

“Shit, Boone…” she hissed, “What the hell happened to you?”

For a moment, he just kept staring at her with a disheveled face, until he looked down and noticed what she spoke of. His jeans had bug bite-shaped tears all over them, each rip caked with blood and dirt. Burn marks and soot covered his arms, and one even had a large gash from where he was cut during an ant-based struggle. Ah, he hadn’t quite noticed all that. He had poured himself so much into his work that he didn’t even realize how much he had gotten hurt.

“Just fire ants,” He replied gruffly, “Nothing the doc can’t fix.”

She just gave him a look as if to say “he better” before opening the door to the infirmary. All the patients were either already asleep or just comatose but the doctor was nowhere to be found.

“Hello?” Red called softly, “Doctor?”

No reply. Probably out for dinner. The courier just shrugged and gestured Boone to follow her inside. If the doctor wasn’t in, then she’d just have to take his place.

“Don’t worry, Boone, Doctor Belladue’s in.” she chirped and headed for the supply cabinet.

The sniper took a seat, his muscles and bones aching as they were finally given a chance to relax. His eyes wanted to relax too—wanted to close— but he didn’t let them. Meanwhile, Red was yanking out different bottles and syringes from the cabinet, occasionally reading the labels on some of them. When she had laid out a small array of treatments, she took a seat next to Boone and pointed to her lap.

“Leg up here.” She ordered.

Boone swung his leg up, making all his bug bites more apparent to Red. It would be easier to heal if he just took off his pants…but Red didn’t let herself ponder that for too long. So she just dabbed a cloth in ethanol and began firmly pressing it into each bite. Boone grit his teeth when the alcohol stung his wounds. But after she finished his first leg and moved onto the other, he grew used to the pain and could started focusing on other things, like how sleepy he was. Red caught him slip off his sunglasses—a rare sight—and rub one of his green eyes, letting out a tired grumble as he did.

“When was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?” she asked.

_Not this again,_ he thought. 

“Don’t worry,” was his vague response, “Just nightmares. They come in spurts. This week has just been rough on me.”

Damn. A week of next to no sleep?! Red might have thought it had been a few days or something, but this was just destructive! Boone noticed the lack of response from his companion, so he cast his eyes on her, making her snap back into reality. She finished up on the bites on his legs, and moved onto his arm, cleaning off the soot.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she offered.

“You can’t help me.” He replied bluntly.

Those were some harsh words for the courier to swallow. She helped anyone and everyone in the wasteland; even those who didn’t deserve it. To her, she was able help anyone. So being told she couldn’t help her partner no matter what…was disheartening. The courier simply dropped her gaze back down to her work, moving onto the gash running down his forearm. It was a much bigger wound than any of those before, so when she soaked it with ethanol, Boone winced and groaned.

To help with the stinging, he pulled out his flask with his good arm and took a swig. Red watched as he did so, even wincing herself. She had seen him drink from it before on their journeys, but she had seen more and more of the flask since they left the Strip. Red knew from medical experience that alcohol couldn’t solve all your problems (except for disinfecting purposes).

“And that _will_ help you?” she remarked.

Boone finished his gulp of whiskey and retorted, “It does the trick.”

“Can’t you tell me anything about this?” she tried asking, “What are your nightmares about?”

“That’s none of your business,” he growled, emerald eyes glowering at her, “Drop it.”

Normally, Courier Six would gulp and back down at a command like that, but since Benny, she had been trying to stand her ground more. So instead, she ceased her work and shook her head.

“You know, typically I would,” she said calmly, “But this is really starting to break you, Boone. It’s affecting your health, your performance, our relationship—”

“What relationship?”

His words were brief but sharp, like quickly stabbing Red with a switchblade. He was surprised at himself for being so cruel. The sleep depravity was really starting to make him prickly. Red should have added “attitude” to her list of things it was effecting. Slowly, he ventured a glance back at the courier, worried to see her reaction. She looked like he had just walked on her pet kitten or something, her face in a clear expression of betrayal.

“I, uh…” she broke her gaze from his, staring down at the floor, “…I thought we were sort of…you know...friends.”

Boone wanted to apologize, but those words were so foreign to him. It had been a long, long time since he said he said “sorry” to anyone. Thinking back on it, the last time he apologized had been when he was with Carla. He had apologized after arguing over the name of their child. Not like that mattered anymore. After the long pause, Red figured she’d have to be the one to break the silence.

“Look, I thought we agreed we wouldn’t try to outdo each other on Legion tragedies.” She looked back up to him.

“This has nothing to do with the Legion.” His tone wouldn’t let up.

“Then will you please tell me what it is?” she finally begged, “I want to help Boone, and I don’t care if you think I can’t. I want to try!”

“I said it’s none of your _damn_ business.” He snarled at her.

“I’m your friend and I think it is.” She fought back.

“Who said we were friends?”

That one hurt too, but the courier kept going, raising her voice, “Oh I don’t know, I think all this time we’ve been travelling together made it pretty evident!”

“Keep your voice down.” He warned her ominously.

“Why?!” now she was shouting, “Because you’re so damn exhausted that every little sound sets you off?! Don’t think I haven’t noticed!”

“I don’t have to listen to this.” Boone muttered under his breath and stood up from his chair.

Six wasn’t done with him, though, and she didn’t plan on letting him leave until she had completely dealt with all his injuries. Her hand shot out, grabbing him by the wrist to stop him.

“I’m not done with you—”

“RED!” he snapped, shoving the girl off him, feeling how easily her scrawny body was thrown.

Thrown right into the table where she had set out all the supplies. The supplies which now clattered to the floor around her, syringes and pills lying in a mess about the girl who was now slumped over on the ground. Red just sat there, fists clenched and head down, too scared to look up at him. She had seen him get heated in fights before, but never considered how frightening he could be when violent with her. And yes, this was violence: he had shoved her pretty hard and her back was beginning to bruise from where it had hit the table.

Boone was mortified…Terrified that his nightmares had gotten to him this much; mortified that he had hurt Red. He felt like shit, and he was about to say something about it, maybe even try using that estranged “sorry” word. But Red shot up from the ground before he could, short crimson hair covering her face, body hunched over in pain.

“Forget it,” she spat, voice cracking, “Fucking _suffer_ for all I care.”

With that, she stormed out of the infirmary, slamming the door hard on her way out. Boone would have tried to stop her from leaving, but he knew that would only have made things worse. He stood there in silence for a few moments, still in disbelief of what had happened. When it finally sunk in, he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling like a total jackass. All Red had tried to do was help, and even though he wasn’t in the mood to be helped, he didn’t have to be such a jerk about letting her know. God, this was going to make travelling with her a lot more complicated, maybe even complicating their current mission.

The courier had tried to make it to her quarters before crying, but started sobbing as she tried to unlock her room. The locks were already finicky, but tears blurring her vision hardly made it any easier. When she was finally alone in her room, she plopped down onto the mattress, burying her head in her hands and letting it all out. She always hated being such a cry baby, and often wished she could handle just the smallest amount of emotional distress without going into hysterics. Eventually, the tears let up, allowing her to even out her breathing and dry her eye. Hey, at least she didn’t have two eyes to clean up.

It wasn’t Boone’s rejection of her kindness that made her cry, it was just that he had never hurt her before; never shouted at her either. It had really shaken her up; left her wondering if he was bound to lash out like that again. If it had been anyone else, she would have pulled her gun on them and shouted right back! But this was so much different…She didn’t want to think about parting ways and travelling alone again. So instead of dwelling on the situation any further, she attempted to distract herself with her Pip-Boy, tuning into Radio New Vegas. Mr. New Vegas always knew what to say to cheer her up.   
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Notes: Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease leave a comment! Look, I know I seem kinda needy for them, but my native domain is Fanfiction.net, and this is my first fic here on AO3. On Fanfiction.net, leaving comments is a much more common thing, and it really does help me find my inspiration! Some of my fics would have gotten nowhere without feedback!

So please leave a comment, especially if you haven't left one yet at all. Personally, I like when people tell me what they liked about it, but at this point, I'll even take a simple comment or smiley emoticon. Also, comments would be very important to this chapter since it IS a very important one!

Let me know what you think! Also, shout out to my badass beta, EpicOfMe, who really saved me from some total screw ups in this chapter! Thank you, love~


	16. Too Bad, I made You a Dream Catcher

She didn’t see Boone at all the next day. Red spent her morning retrieving Jack’s dream girl, Janet, and bringing her back to the tribe. Janet was as beautiful as Jack described her, and Red was happy to see the two finally acquainted. The afternoon was spent in the infirmary, helping the tribe doctor patch up all those who had been hurt in the fire ant attack. Red tried to keep her mind on her work and away from the night before, but the incident kept coming back to haunt her. Her back was still sore and she was sure she’d see a faint bruise forming there if she had a mirror. She just couldn’t stop thinking of how Boone had hurt her.

Red always felt safe travelling with Boone, but now…it just felt like some of that security had been taken away. Like having him feel up her thigh wasn’t unnerving enough for their relationship. It also had her worrying over whatever it was that tortured him so. It not only deprived him of sleep, but also made him dangerously irritable. That got Red considering PTSD. Maybe over Carla?

As she left the infirmary for the evening, worry still etched into her face, Janet happened by. Red had seemed distant the whole day, and at first Janet thought it was just the girl’s personality, but now seeing her so sad made her think differently.

“Hey…Red, was it?” Janet spoke up, catching the courier’s attention, “Are you doing ok? You don’t look so good.”

Red faltered for a second before mustering up a weak smile, “I’m fine.”

“Really?” Janet pried further.

“…No.” Red gave in, dropping her gaze to her shoes.

“Well, Mother Pearl invited me over for tea. She says she wants to get to know me better. Would you like to come with me?” Janet offered carefully.

The courier felt a little better at the idea of seeing the grandma elder. A sweet old lady like that was bound to have some good advice on any matter. As the two headed off for the elder’s home, Red tried to make light conversation. From what she gathered, Janet liked Nellis so far. It had lots of wide open space and plenty of things to tinker with as well. Plus, Jack was there to admire her up close.

Pearl was surprised to see Red again, but didn’t seem to mind extra company. She ushered the two in like any grandmother would, eagerly showing them to her table with hot mugs of tea close behind. She began questioning Janet about all sorts of things: where she grew up, what her previous job was, how she was getting along with Jack, what she thought of Nellis, how long she planned to stay. Eventually, Janet became overwhelmed by the bombardment and turned the conversation on Red.

“Actually, Red wanted to talk to you, Mother Pearl!” Janet suddenly piped up in between questions, “She said there was something bothering her.”

The elder took on a concerned expression and turned Red, leaving the courier frozen on the spot like a gecko in the crosshairs. She didn’t expect Janet to dump the conversation on her!

“Uh…well it’s nothing too serious—” the courier tried to brush it off.

“Child, if my kind have not been treating you well you need to let me know,” Pearl insisted, “You have done a good deal for us since coming here, so they should not be mistreating you.”

“No, no, that’s not it,” Red shook her head, “Your people have been very kind to me since I came here, but…”

Her voice trailed off as she let her gaze drop to her tea, staring into the murky, leafy liquid. She considered not telling them, and that her problems would only burden them. But the girl could never hold emotions back, so she sighed and mumbled her story to them. She told them how she met Boone: that awkward encounter in the dinosaur’s mouth. Red had dashed up the stairs, eager to tell Manny Vargas all about the ferals she exterminated for him, and get the last piece of evidence she needed to find Benny. But as she flung the door open, she found Boone, startled by her sudden entrance. Red told them about their travels so far and how they had been slowly growing closer as travelling partners.

“But lately I’ve noticed he hasn’t been sleeping well. He keeps telling me not to worry, and that he just has periods where sleep is harder than normal…but he looks awful,” she breathed, “And last night, I tried to help him, but he…sort of lashed out.”

Now Janet looked just as concerned leaning into the table at the news. Pearl on the other hand straightened up and took on a more authoritative look.

“We do not accept violence amongst our people here,” she said sternly, “If what you say is true—”

“Wait, he just pushed me is all! Well, I mean it hurt, and I’m pretty sure I have a bruise, but it’s not like he pulled his gun on me!” Red raised her hands in defense, “And he’s usually quite docile! It’s just this whole sleep thing has got him so testy!”

Mother Pearl backed down at this, nodding to herself as she thought it over. Boone had been awfully quiet since arriving, and he hadn’t shown any other signs of brutish behavior, so maybe Red was right.

“It’s just…” Courier Six’s voice started to crack a bit, “He’s never done that to me before, and it’s…shocking is all. I’m starting to think he might have PTSD.”

Red’s eyes began to blur with tears again as she bit her lip and tried to hold them back. Oh shit, she was gonna cry right in front of—ooh! Crafts! The courier’s fleeting mind was easily captured by a box of brightly colored beads and feathers the elder had pulled out.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the answers to your relationship troubles,” Pearl sighed as she began unloading the box, “But I may have a small comfort.”

She laid the beads and feathers out in front of the two girls, including some string and wire. Janet and Red exchanged puzzled glances as they wondered what it could be for.

“My grandmother taught me how to make these when I was your age, and I thought they were a waste of time,” Pearl explained as she began to untangle some thread, “But then I was surprised to find they actually helped.”

“What are they?” Janet asked.

“Dream catchers.” the elder replied with a bit of flare, much like how a storyteller would, “The legend is that if you hang one above your bed at night, it will catch all of your bad dreams, and keep them from getting you! Of course, it’s only a superstition, but I was thinking you could perhaps make one for your friend. A gift may help heal things between you, and what better gift than a one that helps with sleep?”

Red was instantly on board, a total sucker for old timey superstitions. She even still held her breath when walking over bridges. Even though it wasn’t going to fix everything, she still thought it might help a little, and if not, at least give her something to do rather than pout. So Pearl gave them each a circle of wire, a spool of thread, and an assortment of beads and feathers. She told them to follow what she did, starting with making the net.

Janet and Red closely watched the elder’s wrinkled, boney fingers intricately laced the thread back and forth inside the circlet of wire, gradually forming a crude net inside. They followed as best they could, but it was clear they were nowhere near as skilled as she was. Then came what Mother Pearl referred to as the “fun part”, showing them how to string together beads and feathers into little charms that would hang from their nets. It was then that Janet spoke up.

“Red?” she interrupted the concentrated silence, “Your companion; he’s that sniper with the beret, right?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“He’s in the First Recon?”

“Yep.” She answered without looking up from her work.

“And you mentioned possibility of PTSD?” Janet ventured onward.

“…Maybe,” now Red looked up, “I mean I think so. I saw him have a nightmare the other night, and it looked pretty bad.”

It had reminded the courier of the soldiers at Camp Forlorn Hope and how they’d have night terrors of their own. She and Doctor Richards usually had to restrain the more violent ones. Meanwhile, Janet was quiet for a few moments, thinking to herself before speaking up again.

“I wonder if it’s…” she mumbled before asking, “Red, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about the Bitter Springs Massacre, would you?”

The courier gave Janet a blank stare and a blink before shaking her head. Janet was surprised she didn’t know. Most people in the Mojave did, but then again, Red didn’t appear to be “most people.”

“You know where Bitter Springs is, though.” Janet said.

“Yeah, I’ve done some deliveries there before,” Red remembered, “Place looked as bad as Forlorn Hope.”

“Well a few years back, some First Recon were sent there to wipe out some Great Khan raiders, but uh…” Janet slowly stopped awkwardly looking back down at her dream catcher, “There was a miscommunication, and it wasn’t raiders that were living there, but civilians, and they killed all of them. It’s called the Bitter Springs Massacre now, and it’s why the Khans hate the NCR so much now.”

An ominous silence fell upon the room as even Mother Pearl found herself shocked at the story. Being so isolated from the Wasteland, she had never heard of the massacre. And Red just couldn’t believe the NCR would fuck up so badly.

“A lot of the soldiers ended up resigning after that.” Janet sighed, “And it was then that the Great Khans chose to side with Caesar’s Legion. The whole ordeal was an accident, and I heard a lot came out with of it with PTSD.”

“I can imagine. Something like that—I think anyone would be haunted by it.” Red murmured then suddenly gasped as she put the pieces together, “But wait, if you’re telling me all this—You can’t be thinking Boone was involved!”

Janet only nodded.

“I mean…I…” the courier’s words died in her throat as she thought.

Could he have been there? Was he one of the soldiers who slaughtered innocent civilians? She tried to picture him there, sniper rifle steadied as he shot round after round into the chaos, each shot taking a life—his face cold and emotionless as stone, totally unaware of what he was really doing. Such a dark past like that scared her, so she stopped trying to picture it. Red would rather Boone just be the grumpy sniper who lost his wife to the Legion, rather than the tortured soldier who was haunted by his tour of duty.

“I never thought of something like that,” she finally breathed.

Janet noticed how disturbed all of it had made Red, so she quickly added, “But you don’t know if he was there. For all we know this could be totally unrelated.”

“Yeah,” Red muttered, “He’s never told me anything about it anyway. So I can’t say for sure.”

The courier did the same thing she had done the night before: drowning her thoughts in Radio New Vegas as she lay in bed. Mr. New Vegas was a charmer, but he hardly kept her from imagining Bitter Springs over and over. The NCR hadn’t meant to kill all those people, but they did, and now they were left regretting it. And Boone hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he did, and now he was probably left regretting it as well. By the end of the night, she concluded that she didn’t know for sure if Boone was at the Bitter Springs Massacre, so she wouldn’t make any assumptions.

That night, Boone tried to make it up to Red by actually trying to sleep. He even drank more whiskey than usual to make himself extra drowsy. He laid in his cot, letting the drink numb his mind, keeping him from dwelling on anything that had happened that day. Boone just wanted to fall asleep and forget, and he did that night, but he was met with another terrible nightmare. It wasn’t like the usual ones he had, though. No reliving vivid memories in this dream. This time it was far more abstract and surreal.

He was up in the dinosaur’s mouth in Novac, staring out on the Mojave skyline. Just like his normal shift, it was dark out, but unlike his normal shift, the moon was blue. Nope, he’d never seen anything like that while he was on watch. In fact, that one song “Blue Moon” that they always played on the radio was playing from somewhere in the dino’s mouth. Carefully, he moved closer to the edge of the mouth, looking out at the wastes for some kind of explanation to all the strangeness going on.

Courier Six was down there, shrouded in the moon’s cerulean light, blue eye matching its glow as she stared up at him. She gave him a smile and waved up at him, so he tried to wave back. But rather than wave, his hand grabbed his rifle and began steadying it on one of the dinosaur’s teeth. He tried putting it down again, but for some reason he wasn’t in control of his body. Now he was gazing at Red through his scope, a sight he had never wanted to see. His mind screamed in protest as his hand gradually moved toward the safety, slowly taking it off, and readying the trigger.

Boone didn’t want to hurt her, yet he had her right in his sights, ready to take the shot. She wasn’t even trying to run. All he could think was “I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this.” But he did it anyway, and he heard the loud bang of his gun go off. The courier’s head slammed back from the force of the bullet, and her body collapsed to the ground in a bloody mess. It was then his nightmare gave him control of his limbs again, allowing him to drop his sniper rifle to his side. It was like his own dreams were taunting him, now. Forcing him to kill then letting him sit and fester with that choice.

But he wasn’t going to let his nightmare toy with him. Flipping the gun around to face him, he stuck the barrel into his mouth, tasting the warm metal on his tongue. He took the safety off like he did before, and he pulled the trigger. Strangely enough, he didn’t wake with any sort of start or surge. Boone awoke groggily, still tired from his troubled sleep. Sure, he had gotten a decent amount of rest, but he still felt tired.

Trudging out of the men’s barracks and onto the airfield, he saw a girl in an armored Vault 13 jumpsuit with scarlet hair and an eye patch. She was a few yards away, walking off for the base’s main gates, all geared up for whatever adventure she had next. He thought that now was a good time as any to talk to her. It had been a while since he lashed out, but not so long that it was too late.

Here goes nothing. He thought as he jogged to catch up with her.

“Red!” he called her name as he approached.

The courier stopped in her tracks and turned around, staring bright-eyed at him.

Boone stopped to catch his breath before saying, “You weren’t planning on leaving without me, were you?”

“No, not at all!” she nervously babbled, “Loyal just gave me another job to do and I figured with things being so weird between us right now that I should go do it by myself. I mean things aren’t that weird. What I meant was we’re just having a rough patch, and—”

“I’m sorry.” His gruff voice cut her off.

The word felt strange on his tongue, like eating food that wasn’t necessarily bad, but not very good either. Red didn’t say a word, staring at him; unreadable. He didn’t know if she was going to chew him out, start crying, or just tell him to forget about the whole thing. He always seemed too proud to humble himself like that. Red had figured they’d awkwardly continue travelling together, never speaking a word of the incident and letting it drive a stake into their friendship.

But now that she saw him practically laying himself before her—totally at her mercy—she realized she should relent. Like anyone would, Red almost said “it’s ok”, but she stopped herself. Because it wasn’t ok what he did. So instead, she used the more appropriate term.

“I forgive you.” She spoke clearly and unwaveringly.

With that, Boone felt a small weight lifted from him. The whole situation had plagued him for the past few nights, sometimes leading him to wonder if Red would even want to travel with him again. But now that she had set his mind at ease, he felt the slightest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth. All this time Red had been concerned about showing the “right” kind of mercy, and just then, she had got it. She could have just as easily given a blunt “whatever, don’t worry about it” and let the matter fester, letting the guilt eat away at Boone, but she got it over with. That was mercy if he ever saw it.

“So…you wanna come with?” Red broke the silence, gesturing toward the gate.

“Yeah.” Boone grunted, taking his place by her side.

The two continued without a word until they cleared the bomb field. After a while, Red got tired of the lack of conversation and starting to rummage through her pack. She rummaged for quite a bit until Boone finally asked what she was looking for.

“Well I talked to Mother Pearl about your sleeping problems, she helped me make a little something for you,” she explained as she continued digging, “I hope I didn’t leave it behind…aha!”

It looked like some tribal charm, and just the sight of it made Boone chuckle bitterly. Whatever it was, it probably had some dumb superstition to it—one that wasn’t true.

“Look, I know it seems stupid, but Mother Pearl says it’s supposed to catch bad dreams and keep them from getting to you.” Red tried to tell him, “They’re called dream catchers.”

He was going to turn it down, but after he had treated her, he figured he wasn’t in the position to be rejecting gifts from her. Sighing, he took the dream catcher from his partner and turned it over in his hands. The string of the net had been tied tightly and efficiently, but not so taut that they would snap. Three strings of wooden beads and hawk feathers fell from the net, making it look all the more tribal. It was a kind gesture from Red, but Boone knew a simple charm couldn’t fix all of his problems; any of his problems for that matter.

“And yeah, I know it’s superstitious, but it’s the thought that counts, right?” she pulled something else from her pack, “So I also asked Mother Pearl to give me some tips on sleeping soundly at night.”

The courier pulled out a sheet of neatly folded paper. Upon opening it, Boone could see cursive handwriting—the kind grandmas wrote in.

“She says to stay in a quiet environment with no bright or harsh lights at least an hour before sleep. Apparently things like that make your brain think it’s time to wake up. She also recommends something to keep your mind engaged, like reading or listening to the radio. I have a few books you could borrow back at the Lucky 38. She also wrote down a tea recipe that she thinks will help. Tea is good for relaxing, you know. Oh, and she also said to avoid alcohol before bed. It raises the likelihood of lucid dreams and nightmares.”

He grunted out a “let me see” and Red passed him the paper. Skimming over it, he found himself amazed at the lengths Red had gone through for him. She had taken the time to find new ways of helping him, even when he told her she couldn’t.

“Huh. Why did you go through all this trouble for me?” he asked as he stared at the intricate writing.

The courier bashfully lowered her head and shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess it’s because I worry about you Boone. You’re my friend and I wanna make sure you’re ok.”

He scoffed at the notion of ever being “ok,” but it still felt good to hear that. The fact that she cared about him that much was comforting and almost touching. He guessed when Leone told him to look out for her, Red had already told herself to look out for him. Folding the paper back up, Boone stuck it in his pants pocket and walked on. The trek that day was off to a good start, and could have continued that way, but then Courier Six had to bring up one last thing.

“I also think it would help if you talked about it—the thing that’s keeping you up at night.” Red suggested.

“I don’t think it will.” Boone replied in his usual blunt manner.

She went quiet for a few seconds, unsure if she should venture on, but after those seconds passed, she spoke up again.

“One of the new girls at the airfield told me about this, uh…I guess you could call it an incident.” she said, “The Bitter Springs Massacre?”

The sniper’s whole body tensed up at the very mention of it, and Red’s fears were instantly confirmed. When Boone didn’t say anything, she continued.

“She told me that the First Recon was involved, that a lot of them came out of it with PTSD. So, I guess what I’m asking is, were you there?”

That was a question he hoped to never hear from Courier Six. The last thing he wanted was for her to think of him as a murderer, but judging by the way she was looking at him, she already knew. Dropping his gaze and swallowing hard, he growled out a firm “yes.”

Yes. So all those scenarios Red had dreamt up the night before happened. Boone had killed innocents, probably even children, with the very rifle that hung on his back. Back when she had repaired it back in Boulder City, Red had no idea she was handling a child killer.

“I’m sorry,” she lowered her voice, “I had no idea. So that’s what’s been keeping you up at night?”

“It’s what always keeps me up at night.” He came back with another grim response.

“Would it…would it help if you went back there?” she suggested shyly. “We can always take a detour on our way back to the Dam.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, “It won’t change anything, and that’s a memory I don’t want refreshed.”

Red respected his decision and backed off, although she was sure a visit could help. Boone was grateful for the offer, and knew she was only trying to help…but she had done enough of that for the day.  
\------------  
Notes: Thank you to watermelonoreos and carochu for leaving comments!! I always get so warm and fuzzy when I see new ones~  
PLEASE leave a comment if you haven't already or just haven't in a long time. It's what keeps me going! I'd rather you leave a short comment than a kudos :3

Also, sorry for the wait. EpicOfMe, my nice beta has been busy with school, and I've been busy wasting my life on Overwatch.


	17. Glittering Gold

“Look, Boone, a cave!”

If Boone had a cap for every time Red said that, he’d never have to worry about paying for ammo ever again. Every unexplored spot in the Mojave was one she’d want to dive into and search every inch of. Begrudgingly, he looked over to the cavern Red was so eagerly pointing to. He knew even if he said no she’d just go in on her own, and he couldn’t have that. Staring into her excited eye, he sighed and told her to make it quick. They were close to the Dam, and it was almost dark. He preferred they reached the Dam before the Nightstalkers came out.

The two entered the cave, Red bounding on ahead while her companion trailed behind her. It was empty as far as he could tell, but there were a few passage ways heading off into different directions. He wondered if something could be in any of them, thinking of the Fat Man they found in the last cave. After staring back and forth between the different tunnels, Red decided on the one on the far left and marched onward. Boone followed just as bored as before, until he caught sight of something on the wall, illuminated by Red’s Pip-Boy light.

“Hang on.” Boone spoke in a foreboding tone.

“Huh?” the courier turned around to see him running his hand along the tunnel wall, “What is it?”

Approaching, Red saw that there were a set of claw marks running alongside the wall, digging deep into the hard stone of the cave. They were big, too, nothing that a Nightstalker or gecko would leave behind.

“Deathclaws.” Boone grunted.

Glancing back up at Red, he saw her biting her lip, looking around with an unsure expression. He could tell she didn’t want to leave until they had explored the cave entirely. She just had to see everything there was in the Mojave, the damn completionist.

“But, we haven’t finished exploring.” She protested weakly.

Boone just gave her a “really?” look. Then Red checked her Pip-Boy, looking for some excuse to keep going. After flipping around a bit on the dial, she showed him the time.

“It’s only mid-day, and that’s when deathclaws are out hunting. They only go back to their dens at dusk.” She stated smartly.

Well, she wasn’t wrong, but even still, Boone wasn’t so sure. He tried to think of an argument that could counter hers, but he couldn’t think of any deathclaw facts off the top of his head. So Red continued on down the tunnel, leaving Boone a little ways behind as he thought how things just didn’t seem right. But saying they should leave because of a “hunch” probably wouldn’t be enough to curb Red’s wanderlust. Instead he trudged behind, this time with his rifle drawn.

When he caught up to her, he found himself in a decent sized, dome-shaped cavern. Red was in the middle, standing in the dead center of a deathclaw’s nest, examining the depot of eggs that had been left there. Even though the cave was likely uninhabited like Red had pointed out, Boone still didn’t like the idea of wandering around a beast’s territory so freely. The courier bent down, and heaved one of the eggs up into her arms.

“Look at these!” she gaped as she patted the egg, “Y’know, I have a friend who makes the best deathclaw egg omelets in the Mojave! Well, it’s because she’s the only person who can make deathclaw omelets in the Mojave, but still!”

Even though they were in a risky situation, Boone couldn’t deny the eggs would make them some good caps. Maybe they could just snag a few and leave…

“Here, we can each carry one,” Red suggested, “One for omelets, the other for selling.”

Suddenly, her companion heard a slight, subtle rumbling from the back of the cavern. It was too dark to see all the way back, and the rumble had been distant, but it still made the sniper wary.

“Red…” He mumbled in warning.

But Courier Six seemed too occupied with trying to scoop up another egg into her arms. A few seconds passed, and Boone started to think that it might have been nothing—maybe the cave walls shifting—but then he heard it again. This time, closer.

“Red.” He said in a sharper tone.

“What?” she finally looked up from the eggs.

Giving him a curious glance, he gave no response. He just stared into the darkness with an alert expression as he slowly raised his weapon. Red knew Boone wasn’t one for talking, but she wished he’d at least tell her as to why he was staring menacingly into the darkness. Rather than stare into the shadows along with him, she just chuckled at him and shrugged.

“Calm do—”

“Be quiet.” He snapped. He needed to hear.

Just as he went to look through his scope and turn on the night vision, the rumbling came again. This time it was close enough to tell that it wasn’t a rumble, but a growl. Now Red’s face dropped with horror, realizing what was hiding in the darkness. Slowly, like a pair of headlights, the deathclaw’s eyes appeared in the darkness, staring menacingly at the two of them. For a split second, it was quiet, like the calm before a storm. And then it reared its scaly face into the light and let out a monstrous roar, showing its gleaming fangs and shaking the cavern walls.

“Run! Run!” Boone shouted, but Red was already on it.

She knew just by looking at the monster, that it was a matriarch. They had tried to steal her babies, and she was understandably pissed. Red dropped the eggs and sprinted for the exit. The deathclaw made a start after her, but Boone fired his sniper rifle, landing a hit directly in its eye. It flinched back with a shriek, and he took the chance to run after his partner.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Red panted as she ran, “I’m sorry! You were right! I was wrong! I’m an idiot!”

Boone just ignored her, too busy checking behind them. The matriarch was farther back, barreling after them. Luckily, it had a difficult time getting its bulky form through the cave tunnels, otherwise it would have caught them and pinned them.

“Did we come this way?!” Red’ panicked voice made him look ahead again.

No. Both of them realized they had taken a wrong turn, and were not headed for the exit. Wherever they were headed, he couldn’t say, but Boone prayed it would be an escape. But if not, hey, maybe this was how he’d go. He wasn’t really against dying at this point.

“Just keep going!” he barked.

So Red kept going, at least, for as long as she could. Soon, she entered another opening in the cave. It was like the one the deathclaw’s eggs were in, but this one had a drop-off at the entrance. The courier barely managed to screech to a halt, stopping herself from falling down into the area below. Just as she was about to mutter “close one”, her companion ran into her full-force, sending them both toppling off the edge. Guess he wasn’t looking where he was going. The two fell for about a second before hitting the ground, landing in a tumbling mess of limbs.

“Shit, shit. Fuck.” Red cursed in pain as she stumbled to her feet.

“We need to keep moving.” Boone was back on his feet, bearing the pain as best he could.

Red followed him close behind as they ran to the other end of the cave, looking for another passageway to take. But as far as they could tell, there was no other way to take. It was a total dead-end, and the only exit was the way they’d came in. Red immediately started rummaging through her pack, frantically emptying it as she searched for whatever solution she could find. Boone was keeping his aim at the entrance, ready to shoot whatever came in.

Then the courier yanked out a portable radio, the kind that Boone recognized as NCR-issued and briefly fumbling with the knobs until she got a signal. Emergency radios like that usually had good signals, even in monster infested caves. Red barked some pleas and coordinates into the radio until she got a scratchy “we’re on our way” from the other end.

“Hurry…” she whispered.

It was then that the matriarch caught up with them, its massive body breaking through the cavern’s small entrance and shaking the walls. Boone opened fire, emptying shot after shot into the beast’s rough skin, but none of it seemed to be doing anything. It easily leapt down from the drop-off, moving to all fours, and prowling towards them like a tiger. Now that Red could see it more closely, she noticed that it was already wounded. By the looks of it, her mate had probably given her a hearty slash to her stomach.

There were two major things that made an animal dangerous—being a mother and being wounded—and the two had hit a combo. Searching for a sort of trump card, Red found a plasma grenade in her bag, and lobbed it at the creature, landing with a metallic “plink, plink” before the deathclaw. It examined it for a moment, then seemed to put two and two together. This one must have seen a lot of humans because it knew their tricks. Taking an enormous paw, it swatted the grenade right back at Red and Boone.

“Get down!”

And Red tried, but she only got so far before it went off. A loud blast went off, trembling the ground and making her ears hurt. She had been shot with plasma weapons before, but a plasma grenade was a different story. A cold, searing pain washed over her, and she tried to scream, but she couldn’t even hear her own voice. She was sure her Pip-Boy’s Geiger counter would be going off too.

Slowly, her consciousness began to slip, but then a loud thump, thump, thump brought her back. Raising her head from where she had fallen, she saw the deathclaw slowly thundering towards her. Boone saw it too, and he cried out for her to run, but their ears were still ringing, so he doubted she heard it. He tried to move for his sniper rifle, but he couldn’t even get himself off the ground. Everything hurt too much. Red tried the same, making a movement for the exit, but fell back and slumped against the cave wall.

Boone watched her horrified face, skin pale and blue eye widened and teary, vanish from his sight as the deathclaw stood in front of her. He figured this was it for Red: killed by her own wanderlust. And he guessed that he would no doubt be next. About damn time. The matriarch gave Courier Six a rough smack with the back of its paw. He heard her cough and sputter, no doubt spitting up blood, but at least she wasn’t dead. Still, the fact that she was still alive meant the matriarch was just playing with its food. Then it raised its paw, ready to use its claws this time—to end it all.

Just as the deathclaw’s paw was about to swing downwards and cut Red open, Boone heard her pistol go off. Normally, one shot from a 12.7 wouldn’t do anything to a deathclaw, but this one time, it was like a miracle. The beast flinched violently, remaining frozen in its pose, claw still raised toward the ceiling. Then, a gruesome sound of spurting blood came from it; there was a lot of blood in a deathclaw’s body. It stumbled back, and Boone could see it now as it chocked and clawed at its gushing neck. It was like a goddamn geyser as it sprayed all over the cave floors and walls. The matriarch took a few labored steps for the exit then crumpled to the ground, blood still pooling around it.

For a few seconds, Boone stayed quiet, staring in shock at this massive animal that had just been defeated by seemingly a single bullet! He thought back to what he told Rich back in Boulder City: how Red’s aim was somehow frighteningly accurate; how he once saw her kill a Legionary with her pistol like it was sniper rifle. Whipping his glance back over to his companion, he saw her frozen in place. Her arm was stretched upward, still holding her aim steady. Her eyes were locked in place where the deathclaw once stood. like she was stuck in that one moment.

But one thing caught Boone’s eye: the gold. Where her eyepatch had been was a bright, glowing, golden eye piercing through the darkness. He always just assumed there wasn’t anything under her eyepatch but scar tissue and an empty socket, but now he was left dumbfounded by the presence of an actual eye! Why hadn’t she been using it all along?! Suddenly, the gold’s glow flickered then extinguished entirely. Red collapsed to the ground, pistol tumbling to the dirt with her. Finally, he mustered up enough strength to ignore the pain and limp over to his companion.

Plopping down next to his companion, he leaned in to get a better look at this new eye. The gold was gone now, leaving the cornea a faded grey. He sat there for a few seconds, still stunned that there had been an eye there all along. He put together that it was probably her golden eye that gave her freakish accuracy from time to time; after all, he never saw her from the front whenever she used her deadly aim. And every time she did, she’d get horrible migraines. Looks like this time it had totally knocked her out. Then Boone’s eyes wandered down to the blood seeping through her jumpsuit.

Scrambling for the pack, he dug around until he pulled out a stimpak and some bandages. He never was very good with first aid, and tried his best to patch her up, but he knew she’d die if their backup didn’t show. Luckily they did, with Leone leading the pack. Oh great. Of all NCR Rangers they could have sent, they had to send him. Leone looked worried beyond belief when he sprinted into the cavern, but almost broke down when he saw Red.

“Holy shit!” he hissed as he ran to her side, “Red. Kid…no…”

“What happened?” Leone asked firmly.

Boone opened his mouth to explain, but nothing came out. Whether it was the grenade still ringing in his ears or the shock of Red’s limp body, he just couldn’t bring himself to speak.

“Why were you in a deathclaw nest?!” he barked, voice reverberating off the walls, “No, you know what? Never mind, we just need to focus on getting her out of here.”

Boone watched as the rest of their backup came in, and then noticed how Leone snatched up Red’s eyepatch and tied it around her eye again. He knew about the gold. Then the rest came and began more diligent medical treatment on his companion. 

Courier Six was hauled off, leaving Boone wondering if he’d ever see her up and about again. The panicked 6 miles to the Dam were some of the most stressful in all his life. The whole time, he kept thinking of how it had been all his fault. He should have put his foot down. He should have said no. He should have dragged Red’s ass out of that cave, even if it meant her kicking and screaming. Now they were dragging her out bleeding and dying.

The wait outside the infirmary wasn’t any easier. It was quiet most of the time, leaving the poor sniper in contemplative silence, but sometimes he’d hear a sudden clamor of medics, shouting orders back and forth. It made him worry that Red might not make it. Eventually, Leone was called up to the office areas for some sort of ranger duty, but not before explaining the deal with Red’s eye... 

Sitting alone in the waiting room, Boone reached for his flask and quickly unscrewed it. But just as the rim reached his lips, he faltered, slowly putting the drink back down. Instead, he took out the paper of sleeping tips she had given him, skimming to the part about avoiding alcohol. Suddenly, it all came rushing back. Boone remembered how genuine and kind her smiles had always been—even if they made her look hopelessly naïve. He thought back to that evening in Boulder City, how the sunset had backlit her, making her stand out from all the rest. She had looked so beautiful that night at the Ultra Luxe in that pre-war dress, and Boone could still remember how smooth her skin felt when he fastened her garter.

More vividly, he recalled her girly moan when she’d arch her back and stretch the same way she would every morning. He remembered how much she had blamed herself for everything; took it all as her fault. Sometimes he wanted to help her shoulder that fault, but he was never good with words, so he never told her. Now he realized there were a lot of things he never told her—things he wished he had. Right there in the Hoover Dam’s dusty, cramped interior, Craig Boone realized he cared about Red far more than he knew. He needed her far more than he knew.

Boone felt like it was a little late for that though, seeing as how he was about to lose her. Gradually, after hours of waiting, he hunched over and succumbed to a restless sleep. It was almost midnight when a nurse shook him awake.

“Sir,” she said firmly, finally waking him, “Your friend is stable.”

A huge weight lifted from his shoulders.

“She’s sleeping now, but you can go in and see her.”

Although the nurse said she was asleep, Red felt like she was dead. Most of what she remembered was a blur. Something about a cave, a deathclaw, Boone shouting, claws…claws coming so close. Then pain searing through her head. When she finally came to, she was too tired to open her eyes, but she could feel a hand around her own.

_Leone._

But then she ran her thumb across the hand’s fingertips, feeling the rugged calluses and worn down nails. She remembered those hands from the Ultra Luxe. She had even missed them. No, not Leone.

“Boone.” She murmured as her eyes cracked open, revealing a blurry image of her companion.

Blinking a few times, his form came into view, and she could see him clearly. He looked exhausted, and without his sunglasses, she could see the heavy bags under his green eyes.

Red kept running her hand over his and softly repeating, “Boone.”

When his expression didn’t change, she cringed and looked away.

“Boone, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, “I should’ve listened to you…”

Still no change in expression. She couldn’t tell if it was from shock or…something else. Slowly she realized he was staring at a specific part of her face: her left eye. Now she remembered. She had used her golden eye as a last resort. Gasping, her hand left his and flew up to cover the eye, but was surprised when she felt her eyepatch.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled as his brow creased (a rare sight for such a stoic man), “Leone covered it before they hauled you off.”

“L…Leone?”

“Yeah, he was part of the rescue team that you called for. Got there before any of the others.” he explained.

“Did he tell you?”

“About your eye? Yeah,” he nodded, “Said you found it in an old vault or something a few years after you came to Forlorn Hope.”

“Sounds about right,” She mumbled, “Vault 6 was a cybernetics experiment, and I stumbled across it one day while exploring.”

Of course it was from exploring. At least it wasn’t deathclaws.

“Most of the limbs and organs they had made weren’t functional anymore. They had worn down too much over time,” she explained, “But then I found this eye. It was still intact, and it would let me see again. Not only that, but it also had some super advanced version of VATS installed in it. Unfortunately, the Autodoc there only had a prototype version of the procedure. The side effects were serious migraines and loss of consciousness from overuse of the VATS system.”

“Still,” she sighed, “It was better than nothing, so I took it. But after I came back to Forlorn Hope, Leone told me to hide it. He said that flashing advanced technology like that could get me in a lot of trouble. In a sense, I think he’s right. Some scavvers would kill for tech like this. And besides, it wasn’t like the Autodoc got rid of the scars, so I still want to cover those up.”

Boone sat there for a few seconds, processing everything she had said. He could see why she never brought it up. Even though it had given her a new eye, it didn’t heal the scars around it, and he saw that earlier in the deathclaw’s nest. There was a good amount of scar tissue around the socket. Even still, he felt a little betrayed that she neglected to even mention it. After all, she had pried out of him the Bitter Springs Massacre. The most she could have done was mention that she had a priceless piece of cybernetics in her skull. Then again, he never asked.

“So, with the deathclaw…” he grumbled, “How did that work?”

The courier cringed just remembering the whole incident, but she tried her best to remember. She had ripped the eyepatch off, squinted to activate the VATS, time froze in a golden color as the program activated, and then…

“The eye locked onto an artery in the neck, then it just adjusted my aim, and I shot.” She said simply.

Damn. If only The First Recon had eyes like that. They’d be even deadlier than they already were.

“But I had already been badly hurt, and using the eye in a state like that—and so last minute, too—it just knocked me right out.” She finished.

Another silence fell between the two, both too lost in thought to speak.

“What about you, though?” Red asked, “Are you ok?”

Boone inhaled slowly, sitting up and feeling a sore spot on his side, “The plasma grenade got me a little. Nowhere near as bad as you.”

More silence. This whole ordeal had left them so quiet, and Red didn’t like it.

“But I am grateful,” Boone spoke up in a surprisingly genuine voice, “That you’re still alive.”

Red found herself a little taken back by the sentiment. Boone was hardly one for sappy feelings, let alone expressing them. It was usually her who was gushing raw emotion out of her mouth! The tone in his voice shocked her, but it was a shock that she liked. Red wished Boone always spoke like that.

“Can I see it again? Your eye?” he ventured with a gentle voice.

Despite how kind he was being…Red just couldn’t. They may have taken a big step closer to one another, but not that close.

“…No.”

Finally, after another few seconds of silence, Boone took the social cue and left, leaving Red all alone. Normally something like that would keep her up at night, contemplating every subtle nuance in his actions as she tried to decipher them. But now, she was too full of pain killers and anesthetics to go that deep. So instead, she lay there, staring at her hand and remembering how his had felt. Slowly, she fell asleep with the feeling of his hand still in her own.  
\---------  
Notes: Thank you so much to EpicOfMe for being my amazing beta despite all the shit she's been putting up with irl. She's my supergirl! And thank you to those who left sweet comments in the last chapter. Big thanks to Nicole, Nyvera, steelbloom, and watermelonoreos for taking the time to write something nice!


	18. The Legion Part 2

The first time Red was well enough to walk around, she was practically untouchable to Boone. Leone was busy hovering around her and lovingly calling her “kid.” After a few days, Leone had to leave for some classified reconnaissance mission. Then Boone could approach his friend once again, keeping her company as she slowly recovered. By the time a week and a half had passed, the courier was ready for active duty again.

“While you were busy being ripped to shreds by deathclaws,” Colonel Moore glared at Red from over her terminal, “I’ve been gathering data on the NCR’s second-to-last loose end.”

Red dropped her head in shame and bit her lip. Her stomach was still sore from where the grenade had hit her.

“Once that’s over, we can finally engage the Legion without worry of any third parties interfering.” The colonel explained.

“So who’s the ‘second-to-last loose end’?” Red asked.

Rather than give Six a straightforward answer, she launched into an entire exposition, “Several years ago, we managed to seize the Helios One solar power station from the Brotherhood of Steel chapter local to this area.”

Red had been to Helios before and helped reboot their solar power distribution system. It was one hell of an adventure and one she would never forget. As for the Brotherhood, she had never come face to face with them herself, but from what she heard, there weren’t many left in the Mojave. Other than that, she didn’t have too much of an opinion on them. She supposed they were alright, considering their goal was to preserve technology and knowledge.

“It was a crushing victory but no one’s heard a peep from the Brotherhood since. Most people assume the Brotherhood is scattered and not a threat. But recently, we’ve had scouts go missing in an area west of Helios and we’re concerned the Brotherhood is involved.”

Red suddenly spoke up, “There’s nothing west of Helios except Hidden Valley, and all that’s there are testy Bark Scorpions.”

“We are certain it is the Brotherhood.” Moore insisted firmly, “The few scouts that have managed to come back say they saw ‘hulking individuals’ moving about the valley. Their descriptions match that of power armor.”

Red couldn’t help but feel excited now. She had only heard of power armor in farfetched tales and fables from the east coast. But if she did get to meet the Brotherhood, she’d get to see their power armor, too! Her inner science nerd was going off now.

“Find them.” Moore ordered, “And once you do, finish them for good. Any questions?”

She went from excited to confused; a plethora of questions coming to mind.

“’F-finish them?’” she echoed, “But why? If what I’ve heard about them is true, they could have technology invaluable to us in the final battle against the Legion. An alliance with them would be incredibly useful. Isn’t there a peaceful way we can resolve this?”

“Don’t even think about it,” the colonel was quick to shoot her down, “Any Brotherhood survivors will likely harbor a deep grudge against us. We can’t afford to leave such an enemy alive. Any other objections? Maybe you’d like to bring the Brotherhood some flowers?”

Red found herself speechless for a second at just how close-minded Moore was to a truce. Sure, the Brotherhood may hate them, but siding with them could be the difference between loss and victory! She opened her mouth to argue again, but quickly decided against it. The colonel was far too rigid to accept any other ideas. So, Red pinched the bridge of her nose and offered a compromise.

“Can I at least try to talk to them first?” she tried.

The colonel rolled her eyes, “Fine! But know that in doing so, you’re risking your life. If you end up dying trying to make nice, don’t blame me.”

“I have a question,” Boone spoke up from the back of the office, “How do you expect us to wipe out an entire Brotherhood chapter on our own?”

“A fair question.” Colonel Moore nodded, “And one I’ve had our strategists think about for some time. Their consensus is that we need to focus on the one thing we can count on. With the Brotherhood, it’s their obsessive attachment to technology. They’d never go anywhere without working power. I’m willing to bet that wherever they’re hiding there’s a working power reactor—that’s their vulnerability. Detonate the reactor, and we can safely cross the Brotherhood off our list of concerns.”

It all sounded rather violent to Red, but then again, she had permission to try and talk it out first. But if worse came to worse, she was good enough with computers to enter a detonation command. She had certainly done crazier with codes and algorithms.

“How are we going to get to the reactor is what I mean,” Boone clarified, “If they have a reactor, they’re likely guarding it. So how are we going to deal with an entire chapter of men on our own?”

“Ah. Yes, we have assembled a small group of rangers to accompany you.” Then she turned to Red and gave her a deadpan look, “And please, use them.”

Basically, the colonel wanted violence, but Red wasn’t ready to give it to her. She was going to give her silver tongue a shot first. 

Much to her disappointment, Leone wasn’t on the team of rangers going along with them. They were all strangers. Not only that, but they weren’t too fond of the courier. Right before they entered Hidden Valley, she asked that they stay outside the perimeter so she and Boone could go in alone. Red didn’t want the Brotherhood to spot a large group of NCR rangers, flip out, and start shooting. Everything had to be careful and calculative if there was to be any chance of an alliance.

Together, the two searched the valley as the sun set, looking for any signs of Brotherhood. Red pointed out some old vents in the ground, saying that they could be signs of a bunker nearby.

“Doesn’t mean they’re operational. The bunker could be abandoned.” Boone pointed out.

“Well, even if it is, we should find it and report back.” She said.

After a quick silence, Boone brought up a worry that had been on his mind since they left the Dam.

“The Brotherhood’s dangerous, you know,” he spoke up, “They aren’t quite as civil as the NCR.”

Red just looked back at him with a smirk and shook her head, “Come on, Boone, the Great Khans are uncivil. The Brotherhood is an elite cult of warriors dedicated to preserving technology.”

She surprised herself with how highly she spoke of them. Looking back on it, she had a few daydreams of being a Brotherhood soldier herself. All that technology and science to tinker with—gauss rifles, power armor, Liberty Prime—it made her skills look mediocre.

“Having a noble cause doesn’t make them noble.” Boone stated harshly.

“Don’t tell me you’re siding with the colonel.” Red sighed in exasperation.

“I’m not, I’m just—” he stopped himself.

Yeah, he was worried. What if something like the deathclaw incident happened? All he knew was that in one wrong move, Red could piss off the Brotherhood, and end up with a gauss rifle redoing what the deathclaw matriarch had done.

Taking a deep breath, he finally mumbled out, “…I’m just worried something will go wrong.”

Red gave him a sweet, sympathetic look before placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure we get through this one.” She reassured him.

With that, she headed off to keep looking. Boone couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The last time she showed that kind of optimism, she nearly died. After a few more minutes of searching, the courier found an entrance to a bunker. Carefully, she opened the door and saw a long, metal staircase going down, dimly illuminated by old, flickering lights. The whole atmosphere felt creepy, so Boone readied his rifle. Red however, stayed unarmed so she wouldn’t appear menacing to any potential allies.

When they reached the bottom of the staircase, they found a small, empty room. The air was stuffy, and made Red wonder when someone had last been down there. At the end of the room was another bunker door with an intercom next to it. She pressed the intercom button down tentatively and let out a feeble “Hello?” No reply. Just static. Maybe the bunker really was abandoned as Boone had suggested. Still, Red took out a bobby pin and began to jimmy the lock on the door. A few broken bobby pins later, the door opened and Boone immediately readied himself to fire.

Just rubble. No soldiers or Brotherhood sigils. Just rubble.

“Huh,” Red shrugged, “That was anti-climactic.”

Letting out a sigh of relief her companion dropped his guard and let his sniper rifle hang at his side. The courier tapped her chin a few moments, thinking herself.

“Well, I certainly don’t want to tell the colonel nothing’s here unless I know for sure,” she concluded as she headed for the door, “Better look around a bit more. If we missed something important, the colonel would skin us.”

It would be awfully awkward to give the NCR the all clear on Hidden Valley, only to find that it was in fact not clear, and now posed a real threat to their chances of annexing Vegas. Really awkward. After some more searching, Boone found another bunker, but it gave them the same anti-climactic result as before. Just as they were about to give it up and head home, Red spotted one more bunker with graffiti all over it. The sniper figured it’d be another bust.

As Red descended the usual long stairs into the usual dim light with the usual stuffy air towards the usual bunker door, she sassed, “I swear, if this is another pile of rubble, I’m going—”

Before Courier Six even reached the door, it flung open with two Brotherhood soldiers in power armor marching out. Boone immediately raised his sniper rifle, but both soldiers aimed their gauss rifles at the two before they could react. Once they had Red and Boone at a standstill, another soldier wearing similar power armor pushed past the two. He was unarmed, and Red hoped he would want to talk.

“Listen very closely and do as I say!” he barked, “Your life depends on it!”

Red assumed she’d get a reception like this. Just stay calm and comply, she thought. Then you can talk. She nodded, slowly putting her hands up in surrender.

“Hand over everything you’re carrying.” The soldier ordered, “Weapons, ammo, clothes, armor—everything. I want you stripped down to your underwear.”

The courier’s face went pale and her whole body stiffened. For a few moments, she wondered if this whole thing was a nightmare. After all, she never dreamed a Brotherhood of Steel soldier would demand she take off her clothes! Well, not in any normal dreams anyway…

“L…Let’s talk this over.” She tried to skip over the compliance part of her plan and go straight to negotiating.

“There’s nothing to talk about. You strip off all your clothes and equipment or face summary execution.” The soldier grunted, “Now will you comply?”

She wished his power armor didn’t cover his face. That way, she could try to read him a bit better, find out what made him tick, and go from there. Desperately, she looked to Boone, and he saw the fear in her eyes. He could tell she was silently asking for help, but what could he do? If he made a move, they’d open fire on both of them!

“Don’t even try it.” One of the other soldiers growled at Boone.

Slowly, the sniper placed his rifle on the ground, trying to give Red a reassuring look for her to do the same: comply. But Red never imagined she’d have to comply to THIS! It was humiliating.

“O-Okay, I’ll comply.” She muttered weakly.

She got the easy part over first, handing her 12.7, two magnums, grenades, and mines over. Now came the hard part. Slowly, she reached for the vault 13 jumpsuit, painfully pulling the zipper down to reveal a white tank top and shorts. Exposing her knees and shoulders was difficult enough, so after throwing her jumpsuit to the side, she glanced up to see if it was sufficient. Judging by the impatient silence from the soldiers, it wasn’t.

Taking in a sharp breath through her teeth and cringing, she grabbed the bottom of her tank top. Off it went, being thrown into the pile with the rest of her gear. Red never wore a bra—she never needed to with her flat chest. By pre-war standards, she was an A-cup. Boone could see from behind her ears turning red in shame, probably her eyes tearing up, too. Painfully slow, Red took off her shorts, revealing her underwear.

The poor girl tried to choke her feelings down. This was what she’d have to do to speak to them, so she just had to get through it! Even still, she hated now that she had almost everything showing. Her flat, boney body was now being perused by men she didn’t even know—men whose faces she couldn’t even see. She only prayed Boone wasn’t looking (he wasn’t. Now was not the time.) Everything was off, except her underwear and…

“The eyepatch.” The head soldier grunted.

The courier almost burst into tears right then, but she tried to keep her calm.  
Pulling her best cool attitude she could, she sputtered, “You wouldn’t make a girl sh-show her scars, would you?”

“Yes. Take the eyepatch off.”

Red started shaking, either from how cold it was without clothes or from the fact she had to show her biggest insecurity.

Come on. She told herself. Just comply. This’ll all be over soon.

“Hurry up!” he barked.

As fast as she could, she undid her eyepatch, let it drop to the floor, and quickly covered her marred eye with her hand. Well, the head soldier had had enough of her shit at this point, so he just walked right up to her and yanked her arm down. Red gasped and tried to jump away, but he held a steel grip (literally) on her arm. Boone moved to stop him, but the other soldiers shouted at him to stand down again.

“…The hell?” he gawked at the intricate gold shining in her eye.

Quickly, Red shut her eyelid, keeping them from seeing it anymore. The soldier just muttered a “whatever.”

“Come on,” he ordered, “Paladin Ramos is waiting for you.

He yanked Red through the door, but not before she gave one last look to Boone. She tried to put up a brave face, like the ones she always gave. The “don’t worry, I’m fine” look. But it was so obvious by her red face and screwed up mouth that she wasn’t fine. Then the bunker door closed, leaving only one soldier behind to watch Boone, gauss rifle aimed at him all the while.

Meanwhile, Red was brought into the bunker’s antechamber. The air was clear and well circulated and the walls were lined with fine metal. The soldier led her past the main antechamber and down another flight of stairs. At the bottom was a bigger chamber with a man standing in the center. She could only assume he was Paladin Ramos. He wore power armor but no helmet. He had pale skin with messy black hair and a short, black beard. Red approached, hugging her body and hunching her shoulders, flanked on either side by the same soldiers as before.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Ramos scoffed, “Normally, I would have already shot you…”

They sounded just as xenophobic as The Boomers!

“…But I’m under orders to bring you to the elder. I’m assuming you’ll come peacefully.”

“I-I don’t have…much of a choice, do I?” Red tried to create some levity.

“Sir.” The head soldier from before piped up and approached the Paladin.

He took off his helmet, but Red could only see the back of his bald head as he whispered something in the Paladin’s ear and then put his helmet back on. The Paladin made a curious expression, and came closer to Red. At first, she stood still, but when he reached for her left eye she was trying to cover, she tried to back away. Both soldiers grabbed her arms and held her steady, making her feel all the more violated. But it just got worse from there as the Paladin forced her scarred eyelid open as she squirmed in protest, revealing her cybernetic eye.

“Hmmmm…” the Paladin hummed as he studied it.

Taking his hand away, he concluded, “She’ll speak to the elder first, then we’ll have the scribes assess it.”

“What?” Red looked around in a panic.

“Follow me.” The Paladin ignored her question. “Closely, or you’ll be shot.”

Red was paraded through the halls of the bunker, her entire body visible to the chapter. Some laughed and some whistled. She felt like she was undergoing public humiliation. They led her to the main chamber of the bunker, big rotunda with walls covered in terminal screens and a stately desk in the middle. At the desk sat a middle-aged man with graying hair and blue eyes, wearing old blue robes. The elder looked up, almost smirking at the sight of an almost naked wastelander being presented to him.

But, he regained his composure and asked, “How did you find us, stranger? And do tell the truth.”

“I’m—I’m with the NCR,” she tried her best from keeping her voice from cracking, “They sent me to negotiate at temporary alliance for the upcoming battle against Caesar’s Legion.”

“You took an extreme risk in coming here, then.” The elder warned her, “My policy towards NCR has not been…lenient.”

So the Brotherhood had been killing off the NCR scouts sent to Hidden Valley.

“The security of this bunker is my foremost concern, and I take pains to minimize our exposure topside.” He went on.

They really were xenophobic. He sounded like a vault dweller.

“I’m assuming your missing scouts tipped you off. I knew it was only a matter of time,” he grumbled, “Although I assumed the NCR would come in greater numbers.”

 

“We’re not looking for a fight,” Red explained, “I just want to talk.”

“You can’t imagine we’re ready to talk with the same people who drove us underground in the first place, can you? Why would we ally with the NCR?”

“Your technology could be useful assets in the final battle against the Legion. But this isn’t just about the NCR, if you don’t help in this fight, Caesar could win, and he could grow strong enough to wipe out your chapter.” Red finally got to talk.

The elder nodded, “I’ve considered that possibility. Still, we can’t ally with the NCR based on a common enemy. In our eyes, the NCR is just as vilified as the Legion.”

Red opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to silence her.

“That being said, a temporary alliance isn’t off the table.” He said, “If you prove your allegiance to the Brotherhood, we may be inclined to work out a deal.”

She hoped proving her allegiance involved putting her clothes back on.

“An NCR scout has set up post nearby, and I want him driven off through any means necessary. Understand?” the elder said.

Red nodded. She could just talk the scout into leaving.

“Right, then I’ll—” the elder began to say when one of the soldiers loudly cleared his throat and approached.

Again, he took off his helmet, whispered something in the elder’s ear, then put his helmet back on. Like Ramos, the elder made a funny expression, then mumbled something back to the soldier. This time, Red was able to catch what he said.

“Bring her to the scribes, see what they make of it.”

Like before, Red asked why, but got no answer. Instead, they dragged her through the halls again for all to see until they brought her to a kind of research facility with terminals and chem sets. Red figured the scribes of the Brotherhood were the brains of the operation. They all looked smart and wore robes like the elder. When they caught sight of her, they all exchanged confused glances. Red just wished she had her jumpsuit back.

“Urm…Paladin, why are you bringing me a half-naked stranger?” the head scribe approached.

She had cold, steely eyes and red hair. Out of all the eyes that had stared at Red that day, the head scribe’s were the most thorough.

“This wastelander is in possession of a technology that I’ve never seen before,” Ramos explained, “I was hoping that you might know something about it.”

They both turned to Red, who reluctantly lowered her hand to reveal her eye again. She figured at that point that there was no use hiding it since everyone seemed so interested in it.

“Hmmm…” the head scribe hummed as she leaned into Red’s face for a better view, “Strange…what does it do, wastelander?”

The courier took the opportunity to bargain.

“I’ll…tell you if you give me my clothes back.” She said sternly.

The head scribe gave Ramos a look and shrugged. They brought the courier’s Vault 13 jumpsuit back and Red hastily put it back on, sighing in relief as she did. Even though her golden eye was still exposed, at least her lanky body wasn’t.

“There. Now will you tell us?” the scribe asked.

“Why are you so interested in it?”

Rolling her steely eyes, the scribe explained, “The Brotherhood’s mission is to document and preserve technology and ensure that it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. We’ve never seen an artificial eye like this before and we don’t like the unknown.”

“F-Fair enough,” Red shrugged, “It’s a cybernetic eye that I picked u-up in Vault 6, a cybernetics experiment vault.”

The scribe gave Red a curious look, so Red added, “You know, the Vaults were all social experiments.”

“Yes, I know,” she snarled, “But what do you mean by cybernetics?”

“Th…They built metal body parts with functioning nerves and whatnot. Imagine a prosthetic arm with all the p-perks of a regular arm,” Six explained as best she could, “Most of what was there was either salvaged or too old to make use of. I found this eye in a hidden lab area.”

“And? What does it do?” she asked impatiently.

“It…well, basically it targets for me. It can lock onto anything no matter how far away. It can turn a pistol into a sniper rifle. I can also use it to scan things like lifeforms and chemicals…I could show you how it works?” she offered carefully.

The head scribe turned to one of her subordinates, muttered a few things then shooed Ramos out of the lab, saying she could take things from there. Whipping out a clipboard and writing on it, she told Red that a demonstration wouldn’t be necessary.

“So…am I free to go then?” Red ventured.

“Not yet. One last thing.” The head scribe grunted before joining her subordinates in readying…something.

They all moved so quickly about the lab, that Red couldn’t keep up, let alone tell what they were saying. She took a deep breath and activated her golden eye. From her perspective, everything took on a hue of gold and went in slow motion. She targeted on a scribe in the far back, fumbling with something in his hands. Now she could make out a syringe and had her eye scan it.

Although it gave her a headache, the eye processed that the syringe held an anesthetic. Switching her focus to the head scribe and another subordinate, she forced the eye to read lips. Rapidly, it generated little golden words next to the scribes, deciphering for her exactly what they were saying. It hurt like hell, like a hot iron was inside her head.

“…Should only take four hours tops, but it depends on how intricately worked the eye is,” she read from the head scribe, “But if we can’t figure out how to safely detach it, just rip it out. At least that way we can still have the main part. Just can’t let some stupid wastelander hold onto something this valuable.”

Courier Six staggered backwards as she disengaged her eye’s targeting. It had given her a terrible migraine, but at least now she knew. Yeah, they really were about preserving technology at any cost, even if that meant stealing. Panicking, Red made a run for the door, but the head scribe saw her run.

“Hey! Stop!” she shouted.

But Red was far from it. She was NOT about to lose her eye a second time! She had been stripped, humiliated, and manhandled, so she was not about to top all that off with an unwelcomed surgery! Dashing out into the hall, she tried to remember which way she came in. After making an educated guess, she continued her sprint, other soldiers giving her suspicious looks. Only a few seconds passed before she heard the shouts behind her.

“Stop her! Shoot!” one yelled.

“No, don’t shoot!” she heard the scribe yell back, “I need her head intact!”

What am I, some sick science experiment to them?! She thought as she ducked under a group of soldiers.

Red didn’t dare look behind her to see how many men were chasing after her, but at last she found the stairs that she had first come down. Taking three stairs at a time, she reached the top, out of breath and near tears. But right at the main exit was Paladin Ramos, almost caught off guard by her escape attempt. He snapped to attention, and pointed his rifle at her, but that hardly stopped her, so he had to grab her and yank her away from the door.

As soon as he did, she started kicking and screaming for her life. Red suddenly felt like a kid being taken by the Legion again. Just behind the door, Boone had been waiting worriedly. Hearing his companion’s cries made him go for the door, but the guard stationed out there with him pointed his gauss rifle.

“Don’t move!” he barked at Boone.

It took everything in Boone not to move. Red was supposed to have everything under control, but now that she didn’t, he felt like he was supposed to swoop in and save the day! Still, he stayed put, fists clenched and glowering at the guard. Then she started screaming his name.

“Boone! BOONE!” Red shrieked, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Red!” she heard faintly on the other side.

But then she also heard a, “Don’t fucking move, I said!”

Unlike the other dangers Red encountered in the wastes, she couldn’t fight this one. She was disarmed, surrounded, separated—and it was just like the Legion. They were going to take her eye. Rip out the very thing she had worked so hard to restore, and now they were going to steal it.

“Boone!” she tried again, “HELP!”

“Hold the bitch steady!” she then heard the head scribe demand.

At first she wasn’t sure why they wanted that, until they dug the anesthetic into her arm. As her vision blurred, all she could think of was Boone. For some reason, she thought he would somehow come save her even though there was no way he could fight through all those soldiers by himself.

This can’t be happening. Not again! She felt her limbs go numb. This is where you wake up, Red. This where…

On Boone’s end, Red’s screaming suddenly ceased.  
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Notes: Sorry for the lack of updates, but I've been enjoying my break, and inspiration for this story has been slow. I think I'm getting back into it, but it'll take time. Thank you so much to TheWriterOfFira for everything you've done!


	19. Docile

Red looked absolutely pathetic when she flopped through the bunker doors. The anesthetics still hadn’t worn off, yet the Brotherhood soldiers still threw her to the ground. They tossed her bag out with her, then jeered and laughed at Boone before going back into the Bunker. He was next to her before he even knew it, trying to help her to her feet as she wobbled and leaned into him.

“Red, what happened?” he asked urgently.

The girl just looked up at him with a hazy, confused look in her eye. She probably didn’t even know where she was.

“Boone?” she breathed.

Looking down at her, Boone realized exactly what they had done to her. Her leather eyepatch was gone, and in its place a makeshift one made of cloth and gauze wire. Beneath it were bloodstains and cut marks. Boone felt his whole body burn in anger. They had taken the one thing she never showed anybody, even him. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, there was a big, chafing, choking slave collar around her neck. It looked scarily similar to the ones the Legion used.

“Oh my God, Red…” he mumbled, skimming his hand over the collar.

She muttered a few incoherent things, doubled over, and retched all over the ground. Boone grabbed both her and her bag and hauled them out of the bunker. The rangers that came with them had been told to wait just outside the Hidden Valley, so at least they wouldn’t have to see Red in this sorry state. He set her down against a rock and began digging through her bag for something that’d help.

The anesthetic must have started to wear off then because Red suddenly became aware of what was going on. She felt the pressure on her neck, reached up, and felt the cold metal hugging her throat. A wave of panic went over her, and for a few moments, she thought she was having another nightmare because there was no way she’d have a slave collar on her again. When she realized she wasn’t dreaming, she grabbed the collar and began yanking at it, desperately trying to get it off. Boone noticed her struggling, and darted over to pull her hands away.

“Red, stop!” he barked, “These collars have bombs worked into them, if you try to take them—”

“You think I don’t KNOW that?!” she screamed, trying to fight him off her, “I don’t care! I want it off me!”

“You can’t, it’ll go off!” he yelled back, still struggling to keep her hands off it.

Red was in complete hysterics. She had just woken up to being forcibly put to sleep, only to wake up with the same slave collar she had when she was little. Eventually, she stopped thrashing, and let her hands fall to her side as she started to cry. Boone had never seen her cry before, but she did so as violently as she fought. After a few minutes of sobbing into her hands, it toned down to little whimpers and shakes. Boone tried to get her attention, figuring if he found out what happened, he could help.  
“Red.”

But she kept crying.

“Red, tell me what happened.” he tried again, but his words were lost to her hiccups and gasps.

Now she was fingering the collar with trembling hands, feeling from the latch to the flesh of her throat that bulged around the top and bottom of it. Every time she swallowed, she’d wince in pain, the collar cutting into her. It kept her quiet—docile almost. She was really just a fourteen-year-old all over again, reliving her hometown being burned to the ground.

Sighing, Boone realized it would be a while before he could get anything out of her. If only Leone were there, he’d know what to say to calm her down. Watching her crying body convulse on the ground, he studied its intricacies and details. It was as skinny as a twig, her bony elbows and knees being hugged by her vault jumpsuit. She was flat as a board, but it left for her dainty ribs to show.

It was that body Boone had grown so used to gazing at while on the open road. It was an acquired taste for most, seeing a body so lanky on a woman in her prime, but Boone had that taste. And now he felt her sobbing mess of a body calling for him, asking for reassurance. He followed his instincts, kneeling next to her, and enveloping her in his arms. As he held her, she slowly stopped shaking, and her crying ended soon after. Carefully, she returned the hug, feeling his muscular form as she laced her arms around him.

The two stayed there for a few seconds, taking in the newness of each other—their smell, their feel, their sound. It was Boone how pulled back first, quickly standing up and helping Red off the ground as well. That was enough hugging for him, even if he had enjoyed it…

“Your eye,” he said awkwardly, “What happened to it?”

“They took it,” she spat, “Brotherhood’s all about preserving precious tech, even if that means ripping it out of people’s heads!”

“I told you they were dangerous.”

“I get it, I get it!” she snapped, “You’re right, I’m wrong, now I lose my eye for it!”

She continued to nervously finger the collar, and Boone had to move her hands away from it again.

“What else happened?” Boone asked.

“I talked to them about peace negotiations,” Red explained shakily, “They clearly still harbor a deep hatred for the NCR, but they were willing to consider a temporary alliance if I proved my loyalty to them. Apparently there’s some NCR scout setup nearby that they want me to deal with.”

“So they expect you to turn on us?”

“No, the elder said I could use whatever means necessary. I could always just talk him into leaving.”

Despite how cruel they had been to Red, Boone was starting to think the Brotherhood could be reasoned with. Maybe after they got rid of the scout, they’d return her eye. But then again, the Brotherhood wasn’t one for giving back to the people.

“But at this point, I don’t care anymore,” she sobbed, “Colonel Moore was right, the Brotherhood was a threat. They were no better than Caesear’s Legion, just taking what they wanted like savages; using slave collars. We should get rid of them.”

Boone slowly nodded, thinking it over in his head. He certainly wasn’t against taking out the chapter, but he was also concerned about Red.

“What about…” his voice trailed off as he gestured to Red’s bomb collar.

The courier gave a pained expression and looked away, trying to restrain herself from pulling at it again.

“Right. That,” she mumbled, “I was still pretty out of it when they dragged me out of the bunker, but I remember them saying it was for liability’s sake. If I try to leave the valley…well, I won’t be leaving in one piece, let’s just say that.”

An awkward silence fell between the two as Boone shifted his weight and Red tried to shake the last of the anesthetics from her mind.

“Let’s go find that scout, then,” Boone grunted.

The two found the NCR scout in a small foxhole in the southernmost part of the valley. He looked very surprised to see backup since he had probably been holed up there on his own for quite a while. When he spotted Red’s collar, he knew right away what was up.

“The Brotherhood put you up to this?” the scout asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, they wanted to me ‘deal with you’,” Red grumbled, “But I’m not going to play their game, and I’m here to ask that you join us in wiping them out.”

“’Us?’” he echoed.

“Yeah, I’ve got a whole squad of NCR rangers stationed on the edge of the valley, ready to move in whenever I give the word,” Red explained, “Problem is, with this collar, I can’t leave the valley without blowing up.”

“Lucky for you, I know an old trick with these collars,” the scout chuckled as he moved up to Red and started fiddling with her collar.

Boone tensed up as he jimmied the collar around, worried he’d accidentally set it off. But fortunately, it came off with a satisfying click, and fell heavily into Red’s hands. She let out a massive sigh of relief, rubbing and stretching her neck, swallowing to make sure she wasn’t being choked anymore. Now that she could leave the valley without blowing up, they left to find the squad of rangers waiting impatiently.

They all immediately got to their feet at the sight of the courier, assuming they were about to get a mission. One of them took off their riot helmets, revealing a woman with brown hair and green eyes with freckles all over her face.

“Your orders, ma’am?” she asked.

“Right,” Red took a deep breath, “We’re going to follow through the original plan. The Brotherhood clearly isn’t ready for an alliance, and if they aren’t ready now, they won’t ever be. We’re going in; carve a path straight to the elder’s chambers, and we should find the terminal with the self-destruct command.”

“Yes ma’am!” the rangers barked and started their trek into the valley.

Red turned to follow them, but was stopped by Boone’s large body standing in her way. He glared down at her through his sunglasses and she looked up at him with a puzzled expression.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go,” he said sternly.

“What?” Red scoffed, “Boone, this mission was given to me. I have to finish it!”

“Not in that state,” he argued, “Your missing an eye, your shaken up about that collar—don’t bother hiding it, I can tell—and there’s probably still some anesthetics running through you. You’re in no condition to fight, much less take on the Brotherhood of Steel.”

“I swear, I’m fine!” she shot back, “I don’t start a quest only to let someone else finish it! Besides, what would I do if I had to stay back here?”

Boone shrugged, “Wait for us to come back. Get some medical supplies together for the wounded?”

“Oh, so that’s it?” she rolled her eyes, “Stay back like some damsel in distress for my knights to return?”

“Did you even hear yourself in there?” Boone growled.

“Huh?”

“You were screaming my name. Right before they took your eye, I heard you shouting for me to come help you,” he told her, “You sounded pretty much like a damsel to me.”

Red was silent for a moment, holding her head and blinking in confusion.

“I…I was?” she stammered.

Screaming his name? Begging for help? That didn’t sound like the Red she knew. At least not the grown up one.

“Yes. See, you can’t even remember properly. You’re not going in there,” he ordered.

She thought back for a few more seconds, trying to remember what happened before she ran from the scribes. She remembered screaming, but she had assumed she was screaming insults at the scribes, not her companion’s name.

“Look, I know you want to finish what you started, but I don’t want you to go back in there,” Boone said more softly this time, “First it was the deathclaw’s nest, now this. I don’t want you going anywhere where I can’t help you. I’ve lost too many people that way.”

The courier was shocked that he expressed so much concern for her. Maybe he always had, but for him to come out and say it was another thing entirely. Boone wasn’t one to share his feelings to openly, yet he had just told her that he really cared about her. She had never considered how he felt during the deathclaw incident, or how he felt when she was dragged into a bunker naked. It must have scared him to see her being hurt while he stood on the other side, unable to do anything.

“I…” she breathed, “…Appreciate your concern. Really, and I’m sorry I’ve put you through so much. But Moore gave me this assignment and I’m not going to screw it up just because I’m too scared to go back in.”

That was Red for you. Never willing to give up on a mission. Once she had her mind set on something, she wouldn’t let anything stop her, not even a bomb collar.

“Fine,” Boone gave in, “Just don’t go running off.”

“I’ll try,” she smirked.

It was a tough fight through the bunker. At first they caught the Brotherhood by surprise, the courier storming in without their collar, an entourage of rangers behind her. But once they broke past the doors, the soldiers started getting their shit together. From there, it was one of the biggest fire fights Red had ever seen until they got to the elder’s room. By that point, every soldier and scribe of the chapter laid dead on the bunker floor.

Red walked up to the elder’s terminal, beginning to enter a series of codes and algorithms Boone couldn’t recognize. Her fingers flew over the keys, attacking the terminal’s security as best she could until at last she decoded the password.

“If only they could see reason,” Red sighed, her finger hovering over the enter key.

“I thought they offered a temporary alliance,” Boone said.

“Yeah, but after what they did to me, it’s obvious that alliance would end in more blood,” she retorted.

Glancing over and Boone, she realized he wasn’t buying it.

“I didn’t do this out of hate,” she tried to explain herself, “Well, ok, I had a beef with them, but Colonel Moore was right, the Brotherhood was a threat. They were no better than Caesear’s Legion, just taking what they wanted like savages. I’m glad we got rid of them.”

“Get on with it then,” Boone mumbled.

Courier Six hit the button and the two bolted for the exit.  
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Notes: Thank you so much to Becca and Heirbritt for their first time comments on this fic. They were well thought out, sweet, and encouraging that I continue. Reviews and comments really can revive fics, guys. Not always, but in this case it can. I feel like I should explain what's been going on with Red's story. It sort of lost momentum a while back and now I'm focusing on an X-Men fic. If any of you are interested in that by the way, let me know in the comments, and I'll post a link.

But this is just one of the extra chapters I had finished in advance. I'm close to finishing the next one after this, just hung up on a specific part. You'll get what I mean whenever I post the next chapter. Anyways, thank you so much for your undying support of Red! It means so much to me and she wouldn't be where she is if it weren't for you guys <3


	20. Chapter 20

The map Colonel Moore presented them with was one Boone was familiar with: it was The Fort—Caesar’s little hideaway.

“This is the final step,” Moore explained to them, “We’re going to assemble a strike team and assassinate Caesar himself.”

“That’s uh…” Red gulped, “…A bold move, Colonel.”

“It is,” she nodded, “But it’s the last loose end before we make a direct attack on the Legate. And with all you two have done for the NCR, morale is high. If we can take Caesar out of the picture, we can lower the Legion’s, and tip the scales in our favor.”

The colonel pointed to one side of the map, “We start here at Cottonwood Cove. The place is crawling with Legion, but if we ambush them, we should have the place under control by morning…”

Red noticed Boone clench his fists and take a slow, shaky breath. Was he nervous? She shrugged it off and went back to listening to the colonel’s plans. Moore then gave them both their own copies of the mission and warned them to keep them secret. A direct blow to the Legion—what Boone would have given to do that a few months earlier. Still, it was a very abrupt order, especially after their incident with the Brotherhood of Steel. First an entire chapter of armored soldiers, now this.

“The job in two days, but in the meantime, we need you to head back to New Vegas,” Moore told them as she handed Red another paper, “This is the list of rangers stationed at the Embassy. Bring them back here, and the Embassy should also have some weapons prepared for you to take back as well. I know errand tasks can be tedious, but you were once a courier, so you’re probably used to this.”

“I still am a courier,” Red laughed as she looked the lists up and down.

The colonel gave her a skeptical look but nonetheless gave her papers. With that, Courier Six had another quest to undertake, setting off from the Dam with a spring in her step and a determined look on her face. But what Boone couldn’t understand was how nonchalant she was being about all of this. Their incoming assignment was to storm the gates of Hell itself, kill its king, and dash out before his hounds could bite their ankles off!

Boone had to admit, though, he had always wanted a good shot at Caesar—a clear one, through his scope. But this quest…it felt like a suicide mission, and he wasn’t sure Red understood the gravity of the situation. They reached New Vegas by the end of the day, and Red was surprised at how courteously she was treated at the embassy. Looks like word about her deeds amongst the NCR had gotten around. After that, she went off to the Medical Clinic to have her golden eye reattached. Doctor Usanagi seemed to have met Red previously, knowing right away what she was there for. Red disappeared for several hours, reappearing with her old eyepatch and a few extra surgical scars around it.

“Another job done!” Red grinned as she lifted her arms up and stretched toward the Mojave’s sunset sky, “Let’s head back to the Lucky 38 and get some rest for tomorrow, we’ll need it.”

No shit we’ll need it, Boone thought.

“By the way, you’ve been looking pretty tense today,” Red pointed out as they entered the 38, “You holding up ok?”

Boone waited until they were in the elevator and the doors had shut with a resounding bell chime.

“Don’t you know what we’re doing tomorrow?” he asked grimly.

Red gave him a worried, yet still unassuming look. Her dense nature was really starting to get on his nerves.

“We’re going to take Cotton Cove from the Legion,” she answered carefully, “Then move to The Fort to assassinate Caesar.”

Boone glared at her from behind his sunglasses, waiting for the realization to sink in for her. But it didn’t. Still so naïve.

“That doesn’t bother you?” he finally asked.

“No…” she mumbled.

Just then, the elevator stopped with a bell chime, and the doors slid open to the presidential suite. Boone stared at her for a few moments more, waiting to see if she’d crack. But she was starting to look more scared of him than she was the mission, so he backed off. Sighing, he left the elevator and continued to the guest room. The courier watched him go, standing in the elevator for a few moments before heading to her own room.

Red took the armor pieces off her jumpsuit and collapsed onto the couch. What had Boone acting so strange? Well, more strange than usual, that is. It was just another job like the ones they did before. So why was he treating it differently? Eventually she quit her mulling and dragged herself to her feet. She wondered what Boone wanted to do for dinner, so she walked across the hall to ask him, only to find the door to his room empty. After checking everywhere, she rode the elevator to the cocktail lounge.

She had only been there once before but never stayed long. What’s the purpose of a giant circular bar if there’s only one person (who doesn’t even like alcohol) to fill it? Red found more enjoyment rooting through the main suite for Old World bobbles than sit around some dusty absinthe bottles. But that was where she found him, sitting at one of the tables, looking out through the giant windows and sipping a glass of whiskey.

Crossing the empty room, she called out, “Boone?”

His sunglasses were off, but his green eyes were locked onto his drink.

Stopping just short of a few feet from the table, Red grimaced, “Sorry, if you need time by yourself, I can go.”

Boone just took in a sharp breath, and snapped, “Red, does it occur to you that we could die tomorrow?”

“Um…Die?” Red echoed, her face paling.

That topic came out of nowhere. Death wasn’t something Red thought about very often—well, not her own death at least. She was constantly concerned with others’ wellbeing that she never stopped to check her own pulse. Red always just assumed that she’d be up the next morning to continue her adventures across the wasteland. But dying? Ending her adventure? It was an idea she liked to stay away from.

“U-um…” she twiddled her fingers nervously, “Not really?”

“So you think this mission’s just like any other?” he glanced up from his drink, “That we get through and move on to the next?”

“…Well…”

Boone saw the anxiety growing on her face, so he reached out a hand and said, “I uh didn’t mean to scare you, of course.”

“No, you’re right,” she huffed, “We could…die tomorrow. I-I mean there’s a small chance that we could!”

One deadpan look from Boone shut her down on that one.

“Ok a pretty good chance,” she muttered, plopping down in the seat across from him, “I just didn’t want to think about it, that’s all. I’m so used to treating my assignments like delivery jobs. Get from Point A to Point B, dodge this area, kill these obstacles, neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.”

He found himself a little impressed she could recite such an old motto.

“But this…I’d like to say that we’ll get through it…I mean I know we can!” she tried to put on a brave face, but ultimately slumped over on the table and grumbled, “But there is a chance we won’t.”

They’d be diving right into the belly of the beast—no guarantee that they’d be coming back out the mouth.

Slapping both hands over her face and rubbing her eyes in frustration, she groaned, “Now you’ve got me thinking all existentially!”

“Welcome to my world.” Boone replied bluntly.

Red slowly sat up again and propped her chin on her hand, gazing out onto The Strip below. It glowed all kinds of neon colors in the dark, reflecting off the lounge’s windows. She hated thinking this negatively, but in times like this, she had to face facts.

“So we could die tomorrow,” she shrugged, “So what? How should that affect anything we do today?”

“Got anything you ever wanted to do?” Boone asked as he finished his drink.

Red perked up at the prompt as it gave her a fun distraction. She counted off on her fingers and mouthing silent words to herself, thinking of all her crazy adventures and trying to see if there was anything she missed out on. Of the murmurs under her breath, Boone heard, “fight a Yao Guai, talk to my brain, meet pre-war scientists…”

“Uuuuum…” she hummed before concluding, “Nope. I’ve done it all! What about you?”

Honestly, the first thing in his mind was making love. He hadn’t done it since Carla, and that was a long time ago. Sure, he could have paid for a night anywhere anytime, but it never felt right. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Not since he started feeling differently about Red. Because with Red…he certainly wouldn’t mind.

Rather than answer, Boone just gazed out the window and muttered, “Nothing for me.”

Red just shrugged, suddenly flippantly content with the prospect of dying tomorrow (probably not taking it seriously again), “Well then, looks like we can both—”

“Red, are you a virgin?”

The poor girl practically choked on her own spit! Her blue eye widened, her face turned red, and her mouth slacked open.

“Sorry, sorry,” Boone mumbled awkwardly, “Just wondering…”

“W-What does that have to do with anything?!” she squeaked.

“Nothing, I just…uh…” Boone found himself becoming flustered himself, “You’re my friend, Red. And I…well if you were, I would want to know if I could…shit—um…”

“I am a virgin, as a matter of fact!” she crossed her arms, “And there’s nothing wrong with it, so don’t you try to send me across the street to pay some cheap guy at Gomorrah for a one-night stand!”

“That’s not what—”

“I can’t believe you’d even suggest that!” she spat, trying to hide her scarlet face, “Boone, do you know why they took me as a Legion slave when I was younger?”

He just sat quietly, slowly regretting every decision he ever made.

“For breeding fodder!” she barked, “And I knew it, too!”

Now her voice began to crack and her brow started to crease, “I was only 14 and I knew the moment I got to The Fort I’d be handed off to some officer to…to just…”

She stopped there, her voice caught in her throat before she gave up and forced it back down.

“So I promised myself,” she spoke quietly, “On that day—being dragged off in a slave collar and chains—that if I got away, I’d give my first time to the right person. I wouldn’t give it away so easily to just anyone or else…that’d be like just giving it away to one of those Legionaries who don’t know me or give a fuck about me.”

Boone let her finish her story, watching as she rubbed the top of her neck worriedly—where a collar would have been. He felt a little bad for bringing up the subject, but…

“That…wasn’t what I meant,” he mumbled, leaning into the table and staring at the bottom of his glass.  
At first, Red was too busy fuming to herself to process what he said. But when she finally ran it through that smart head of hers, her expression slowly dropped and she leaned back in her seat calmly.

“Oh…” she whispered, “That…”

“Sorry for bringing it up. It’s dumb…” his words trailed off as he watched her blank expression as a thousand thoughts running through her head.

“No,” she spoke awkwardly, “It makes sense. I could die tomorrow, and I have the opportunity to…experience sex before I die. I mean, the ‘right person’ doesn’t have to be the one or anything…just someone I feel comfortable around…”

She just always thought it’d be Leone.

“…And I mean, I do feel safe around you, Boone,” she admitted, “…But…this is all really sudden.”

“I get it.” He nodded.

“Yeah…” she was looking pretty shell-shocked as she stood up, “Thanks, though. We should go to bed—separately—we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Boone let her walk a little ways in front of him as they left the lounge. He had clearly freaked her out; he could tell by the way she leaned on the wall of the elevator and stared into space as they went back down to the suite. Yet there was a strange pensiveness about her, too. Although he had spooked her, he had also given her something to think about. And by the time she reached the door to her room, she had made up her mind.

“Boone?” she called weakly.

He stopped just short of the guestroom door, glancing back over his shoulder at her. She looked conflicted as logic process after logic process ran through her head. Red knew she was looking at this from a scientific standpoint, but for once she needed to put her genius kid practices to the side and trust her instincts. She just wasn’t used to this at all.

“Yeah?” he grunted.

“I…” she tried to speak, but couldn’t think of what to say.

What does one say in situations like this?! How is one supposed to initiate any of this?! She looked up, her blue eye giving a pleading, confused look, and Boone knew what it meant—she was having second thoughts.

"Yeah?" He breathed, slowly crossing the hall towards her.

When he came to stand in front of her, she refused to look up at him, instead staring at the wall as if the solution were written there.

"I..." She mumbled again, then mustered up the courage to look up at him, "Ok."

"'Ok' what?"

She took a deep breath, her collar bone rising and falling, "Ok, I'll...I'll sleep with you."

He studied how nervous she was, her fists balled up and her lips quaking.

"You sure?" Boone asked gently.

"Sex is a big deal," she sighed nervously, tapping her fingers against her leg, "It's part of human experience, and...I don't wanna miss out. I mean I say I wanna do all there is to do out there and—and this is part of it."

He just kept looking at her, his brow now furrowed and his lips pursed, conflicted as to what to do next. Boone wanted to make sure she really wanted this, not because she felt she had to. Red just took a step closer, carefully slipping her hand in his own. At first he flinched at the touch, shying back a little. He wasn't used to someone trying to be intimate with him. But he reminded himself that it was just Red—a friend he cared an awfully lot about...maybe too much. He carefully laced his fingers with hers, letting her feel the rough skin of his palms.

"Please," she whispered, her blue eye looking him dead in the face, "I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else."

Maybe Leone, but by now, he was out of sight out of mind. And that was enough for Boone. He leaned in, pushing his lips against hers and sliding his hands onto her hips. Red was a fish out of water, barely knowing how to kiss back as she kept her arms locked to her sides. She also kept her eyes open, too inexperienced to know to close them. But as he kept kissing her, hands now snaking up around her waist, she just let her passion carry her. She kissed back, leaning into him and closing her eyes. Her arms relaxed and the breath she had been holding released into a faint, relieved moan. It was the moan he always imagined she’d make.

The master bedroom door flung open, Red quickly stepping backwards as Boone pushed her along, lips locked onto her the whole way. The kissing was getting more intense and Red found herself at a loss of what to do with her tongue...or Boone's for that matter which was now thoroughly exploring her molars and canines. But as hurriedly as they had rushed in, he slowed down enough to carefully lift her off the ground and onto the bed. He straddled the girl and she gradually came to lie beneath him, staring up as if to ask "what next?" And he knew what came next, but now that it had finally come... Boone's eyes fixated on the zipper of her jumpsuit, nestled up as far as it could go. He had studied her body as best he could on the road: a slender, bony girl with a flat chest. But it was always that damn, baggy jumpsuit that kept him from seeing what her body really looked like.

Now, though, finding out was just one zipper pull away. Before the silence could get any more awkward, he took the zipper and slowly pulled it downward, revealing a lowcut tank top that stopped just short of her belly and tight shorts. He noticed how Red grimaced and swallowed as the body she so detested was now exposed to one of her closest friends. Now one could see how childish her physique was, how there was barely a curve on her, how the edges of her ribs poked out like a skeleton. But Boone was too busy admiring her to see any of that. He saw her pronounced collar bones, her symmetrical form, and how her lungs pushed at her skin as they daintily rose and fell inside her ribcage. A girl who had been through so much yet remained so delicate-looking. 

Just then, Red spoke up, bringing him out of his daze. She nervously reached her hands up to the sleeves of his shirt, awkwardly tugging at them.

"Um..." She cringed, "I don't really know how to undress a—"

Boone hungrily ripped his shirt off and threw it to the side. Problem solved.

"Oh," Red smiled a little, "I guess that works."

Boone couldn't help but smile as well. It had been too long since he had, but it was so cute to see she was finally making light of the situation. Sex should be fun, Boone thought, and he wanted Red to enjoy her first time. He closed the gap between them again and kept kissing her, introducing a few hip thrusts as he went. Meanwhile, she shakily brought her hands to his chest, feeling the scraggly hairs and toned pectorals. He was an ex-military man after all, so Red figured it was only natural that he was fit. From there, he took off her tank top, his belt, next her pants, then his. Finally, they were down to nothing, save for her eyepatch.

The moment he moved to untie it, her hand flew up to his and clamped onto his wrist. She stared his down threateningly, increasing the pressure on her grip. Red had never had anyone touch that eye with good intentions. The first time it had been a Legionary, the second time a broken Auto-doc, and the third time greedy Brotherhood scribes. To say she was protective of that eyepatch was an understatement. No good had come from people trying to remove it. But slowly, she released her grip on his wrist, allowing his calloused fingers to gently undo the eyepatch. It was off, but she shut her eyes tight, hiding her synthetic eye with a scarred eyelid. Her blue eye carefully opened a crack, looking up at him nervously.

Boone dipped his head, his lips softly caressing the marred eyelid. He could feel the delicate scar tissue that surrounded the eye. He figured that was the softest skin she had on her body considering she kept it shielded from the elements at all times. Red knew the kiss was a way of saying “it’s ok, I won’t hurt you.” It was the ultimate form of trust for her, letting someone touch her most vulnerable spot. So she slowly opened her eye, revealing a sparkling gold that glittered up at him. The iris shimmered with limbal rings rotating within it. Red knew she could really make it glow if she wanted to—activate its aiming matrix and scan her companion top to bottom. But she knew it’d give her a headache, not to mention there wasn’t much left to the imagination that she needed to scan on him…

Red’s body finally relaxed beneath him. He reached over and turned out the light, then took her. First times are never perfect, but he tried to be gentle yet passionate. If she had been a little more experienced, Boone would have fucked her senseless. It had been too long since his last time, and he had been feeling a little depraved as of late. It took a little longer than usual, but Red climaxed, arching her back and pushing her body further into his. Hey, it was more than most people could say for their first time. He was just happy he could give her this moment to enjoy. Something about pleasing Red really made him feel good. Maybe it was the sex, but he was starting to think he may have feelings for the girl.

Not wanting to wear her out too quickly, he pulled out. He was shocked when Red let out a whimper and bucked her hips for more. It certainly was a tempting offer, but he could see just how heavily she was breathing, her ribs pushing up and down against her skin. She needed a break between rounds. A pleased sigh escaped Boone as he rolled off of her, sinking into the warm blankets of the master bed. As he lay there, waiting for Red’s erratic breathing to subside, he looked around the dark master bedroom. He had never been inside the room before, but it told him a lot about Red’s lifestyle. The silhouettes of empty Sunset Sarsaparilla bottles could be spotted on the coffee table. Several books were piled on the nightstand next to him, a few science magazines tucked in there as well. Strangest of all cheval mirror which had been turned around to face the wall. She had most likely turned it around so she wouldn’t have to look at herself.

Another sigh escaped him, this time a melancholy one. Red wasn’t conventionally attractive, but that dainty form of her was so elegant to him. He wished she could look in that mirror one day and see her body the way he did. Speaking of which, Boone turned back to Red, beginning to run a hand lovingly up and down her back.

“Red.” He whispered in a rugged voice.

No answer. Her breathing was calm now, too calm. Red had fallen asleep. Wow, she conked out fast, he thought. One round and she was done. He could have gone for several more, but he understood how just one go could tire a girl out on her first time. Boone had done his job: he had given Red her first time. A faint smile spread across his lips. He felt like for once, he had done right by her.  
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Uuuh, sorry for my absence? I just got all out of inspiration ^^; But just cuz they got together doesn't mean its over! We've still got the strike mission, Boone's loyalty mission, the final battle at the Dam, and they still have to make things official. Again, I'm really sorry for going radio silent, I just figured I should finish up this chapter for yall since...ya know, it's kind of a biggie...just like Boone's dick AAAAAAAAAAAAAY *shot*


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